The Ladies Escape
With whining starter, and
groaning grumble
The Ladies did blink, like
bats in Sunday hats,
Behind the din of the
motorcar's rumble.
The wheels slowly turned (yes,
mud was churned)
And Miss Reginald did
note, clearing her throat,
Feelings of regret for the
cognac she'd spurned.
"Ladies," she
said, smoothing her skirts,
"Now that we're free,
it is apparent to me
It's a good time to air
our individual hurts."
The others nodded, Miss
Galbraith, Miss Fossett,
But who would be first,
for best or for worse
And once told, would dear
sisters still cosset?
"He made me eat
lox!" Miss Galbraith confessed.
"And soft, runny cheese,
I begged him, oh please!
Still he made me eat
greens--barely dressed!"
"His sweat was
appalling!" Miss Fossett, she cried,
"From morning 'til
noon, like an Asian typhoon
He dripped--but
suggestions--he would not abide!"
Silence now reigned o'er
the close motorcar
As the Ladies they waited,
for she whom was fated
To reveal now her
incidents so grossly bizarre.
"My consort was
perfect," Miss Reginald, she said,
"From A to Z, kitchen
to bedroom, acorn to tree,
So how was I to know one
of us would end up dead?
"I may have continued
in love, gay and untroubled,
But a letter arrived, by
which someone contrived
To reveal sundry
secrets--my anxieties doubled!
"'The husband you
know,' the letter it read,
'Is not as he seems, even
in your wildest dreams.
You could not imagine the
many lives he has lead.'
"Enclosed was a photograph
of a man at the shore.
It was my
betrothed, but the way he was clothed
Was in the style of at
least a century before!"
"Oh!" cried Miss
Fossett, and jumped in her seat
While Miss Galibraith did
gasp, as if seeing an asp
With fangs bared on the
ground near her feet.
"I vowed to learn the
truth on that very day,"
Miss Reginald did utter,
with nary a stutter,
"When it came to secrets
I could not remain blasé.
"I watched and I
watched, nothing seemed amiss,
'Til one night he crept,
while thinking I slept,
With a stealth that I
could not easily dismiss.
"I waited in silence,
and then followed behind.
Into the night did he
slip, but couldn't outstrip
His pursuer--our two fates
now so intertwined.
"He entered a barn,
and I spied through a crack
Horses in their
stalls--walls within walls--
Skittish as foxes, amongst
mountains of tack.
"Without hesitation
he approached a grey mare,
Who, while first agitated,
quickly seemed sated
By a wave of his hand and
a blank darkling stare.
"Then, producing a
knife, he made a small cut
In the poor horse's flank,
from then which he drank
Her blood, with a lustful
relish akin to smut!
"In terror I fled
from that grimly lit portal,
A pain in my soul, and an
image made whole
Of a man who now seemed
both ghoul--and immortal!"
Silence now reigned o'er
the cramped motorcar
As the Ladies digested,
and fought being bested
By the horrific tale which
gripped them like tar.
"They had needs to be
poisoned, we all did agree,
So let's continue our years,
free from our fears,"
Miss Reginald declared
with firm finality.
With turning wheels, and
winds' whipped whine,
The Ladies did blink, like
bats in Sunday hats,
As the motorcar whisked
them down the line...
In a chilled drawing room
three men now did sit.
They made not a sound,
triple watches unwound,
Cold and lifeless, like
shuttered lanterns unlit.
A teacup lay empty near
each dead man's hand,
The only sound in the
room, this unlikely tomb,
The tick, tick of a clock
in an old wooden stand.
At twelve the clock spoke,
how loudly it rang!
In the air palpitation, an
anticipation
Of something unnatural, a
sour, salty tang.
Mr. Reginald, he twitched now
returning to life,
And within him a craving,
just short of raving,
Pushed him up from his
chair with an angry howl--
"WIFE!"
