Brian Taylor Poems
The ugly sister, Alice,
glared at the mirror with reflected malice;
gave a grin
and blew a bubble;
stroked the stubble
on her chin
and simpered, in unbridled bliss,
'What a charmer I iss! '
adding, with a grimace,
'Who's the prettier, glass face? '
Cinderella. Cinderella. Cinderella.
The mirror twinkled a little wintry.
The tiny fragments of splintery
glass were swept up by footman Fred.
'What a wolatile woman! ' Fred said.
'A weally, wolatile woman! ...
The great stone Hall is silent
that is now millennia old.
Through the western windows
shines a glorious sun.
It floods the walls and floors,
the tables, chairs and doors,
panelling, pictures, artefacts
and illumines every one
until the wraiths that gather