A comment on (some) modern women...

Sonnet #20

The painted ones, I see them every day,
And cringe inside, thinking of their antics.
Yesterday's women have been swept away,
No more hope now for all us romantics.
Now they dance on tables and eat red meat;
Of the sensible gender they'll not hear.
Now all of our kind are in full retreat,
Transfigured into quivering bundles of fear.
Surely they themselves don't enjoy this fight;
It's usually their own wounds that fester.
What princess can be espied by her knight
When she only behaves like the jester.
Today's women have forgotten what's best;
To be loved and adored, it beats all the rest.

Tuesday 25 May, 2004

(disclaimer: these comments are not supposed
to demonstrate that I know *anything*, at all,
about women. They are observations, rather
than conclusions!)