Treasure Island

T (no first name) Wignesan

The Ruba'iyat Of Creteil Lake - Part Four

Lovers stroll down her nubile spine blithely to pubic isle
Where under linden boughs and mulberry spread connive smile
Old and young keep parading swathed in bundles of fur wear
While children romp around on tri-cycles with befuddling guile

Leon Blum lyceens cart on bulging backs their home-worked chores
While their waddle with rollicking bums speak of runaway mores
And boys groomed fast to mature men cast lewd eyes on women
Teens no more stop to listen if the Lady of the Lake snores

Colonies of campers come to barbecue on her tresses
And watch some husbands kick the balls through two stumps of
While strained and starved-looking dames escort and watch children
In a Bordeaux and yellow toy-land sandy circus wine-press

The Grande Armée of the sporting fishing clan pitch their tent
On her soft flanks for solitary siluroids anglers hunt
The bashful toothless mammoth lost in nightmarish dreams
While cameramen stalk their every gesture in contempt

At her itchy feet where Pompiers de Paris come to train
Rinse uniforms, flush cisterns and fly over crested main
Pigeons grumble wobble while crows flap razor-sharp tailcoats
As tourists from nearby trysting hotel blink in disdain!

© T. Wignesan – Paris,2013

Submitted: Monday, December 09, 2013
Edited: Sunday, December 29, 2013

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