Lady of Shalott by Liz Lochhead

[ann-septimus.livejournal.com]

Lady of Shalott

Fifteen or younger
she moons in the mirror.
Penny for your thoughts,
Lady of Shalott.
In her bedroom tower
with mother and father
watching TV downstairs,
she moons in the mirror
and swears she will never
lead a bloody boring life like theirs.

Maybe you’ll find True Romance
at the youth club dance,
Lady of Shalott.

She paints her nails scarlet,
she moons in the mirror.
Ingenue or harlot?
The mirror is misted,
every mirror image twisted.
Like Real Life - but larger.
That kid-glove
dream love
a Knight on a Charger.
Sure
you can lure
him, keep him enslaved.
Buy him Christmas aftershave.

She moons in the mirror
asks it to tell her
she’s ever bit as pretty as the other
gadfly girls.
Yes, you’ll tangle him in your curls
my Lady of Shalott.

Maybe tonight’s the night for
True Romance.
You’ll find him at the youth club dance,
Lady of Shalott.

But alas
no handsome prince to dare
ask Rapunzel to let down her hair.
Her confidence cracked from side to side,
by twelve o’clock her tattered pride
is all Cinders stands in.
You’re the wallflower the fellows all forgot,
Lady of Shalott.
Oh, how she wishes she could pass
like Alice through the looking glass.
You’re waiting to be wanted
my fairy-tale haunted
Lady of Shalott.

Silver dance shoes in her pocket,
no one’s photo in her locket,
home alone through the night,
on either side suburban gardens lie,
bungalows and
bedded boxed-in couples high and dry.
But you’re
lovely in the lamplight,
my Lady of Shalott.

~Liz Lochhead

And a link to the text of the Tennyson poem to which this one refers.

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/_lyra_b/]

Thanks for sharing this lovely poem. I was lucky enough to travel to London last week and saw the "Lady of Shalott" painting by Waterhouse. It was very moving.