Retirement Plan
after Twelfth Night
Maria (engraving
after a painting by
Augustus Egg (1816-1863).
It’s time to settle down, for youth does not
endure.
First find a man of good position, preferably not poor.
To make a start, I wrote a list of prospects down.
Sir Andrew? He’s a snob and, worse, a clown.
Malvolio? I crossed him out. Self-righteous prig!
Quite honestly, I’d sooner settle with a pig.
That left Sir Toby. He’s at least no fool
and easy going – easy then to rule.
He’s well proportioned, sound of thigh and calf,
and, more importantly, he makes me laugh.
Before too long I had him eating from my hand,
and quick to do my bidding, as I’d planned.
Once I was sure he'd follow where I led him,
I took him for my own. Last week I wed him.
We should do well, for we’re a perfect fit
with his connections, and my sharper wit.
His name’s the only rub – it nearly made me welch.
My Lady’s well and good. But Lady Belch?
Isabel Miles
If you have any
thoughts about this poem, Isabel Miles
would like to hear them.
