Joy V. Sheridan writes

The Courtesan 

I saw with the twinkling of an eye 
The beauty who swept by 
The by-and-by. 
She radiated a genius of calm 
To one’s vision – 
She was perfection’s balm.

Oh, who could not love this delight to the sight? 
She moved daylight 
Into seduction’s right, 
So bright was her countenance divine.

‘How’ thought the prince, 
‘Can I make her mine?’ 
Such a question could bear no pose, 
So he got the gardener to grow a rose 
And inscribed in the heart of that bloom 
Were gentle words that lifted the gloom.

He often kept thinking on life, 
But she was a courtesan who could not become his wife. 
How he worshipped at her shrine 
Thinking, oh thinking ‘How can I make her mine?’

Into his heart a plan was born 
And he named that rose ‘Peace’ in the light of morn. 
So if you see a shadow move on the stage of day 
Know that the courtesan will always hold the paramount piece 
Of the prince’s way. 
Sway yourself as calm as can be
Oh peace – you soothe the tragedy in her. 


The Honest Courtesan -- Seema Gill