One who indulges in this tempting vice
Indulges herself – and there is our first:
The import all upon the self it lies
And the selfish pronoun which reflects our worst.
Or maybe the voyeur must be called upon,
Surveying, but never part of what she sees
As she lazes; shields this syllable from the Sun,
So preserving a superficial life of ease.
The valley of beauty our second presents,
A woodland glade for fairy folk,
A place delightful for a wasted day spent
With social convention the only yolk.
But perhaps you have more Southern tones
And would speak not of nature but of lacking wit,
Of a knife in direst need of the stone,
Or of boredom, of weather, or of brilliance unlit.
Tarry over this riddle and reveal the whole
Or, if the answer you cannot find,
Simply rest, languid in body and soul -
May vicars and pianofortes occupy your mind!
I’ve just finished Jane Austen’s Emma for the nth time and thought I’d have a go at a rhyming riddle such as Mr Elton supplies for Emma and Harriet’s album.
I’m afraid Emma declares that riddles cannot be too short and here is mine exceeding the one on courtship by three verses…oh dear.