She’s sitting out, in Greenwich Park,
Upon a bamboo chair,
Looks through a purple telescope
Whilst brushing out her hair.
This garden is a secret place,
She knows not what I dare.
I have been stealing apples for
My family to share
Her dress is white with gold damask,
Translucent skin so fair
Around her waist a chatelaine
Of silver she did wear
She looked so fine, I wanted her,
As swallows need the air,
But, deep inside, the truth I knew,
For me she’d never care.
Tomorrow I’ll be back again,
I hope that she’s still there,
While I scrump more of her apples,
Perhaps, even, a pear.
Next morn I spy her burning house,
Smoked flames reach everywhere.
Beside the purple telescope?
Her empty bamboo chair.
Aberbanc – In the hut: 22/11/2016
Ballad – Subject: Class – Unrequited Love