this is no fairy tale

This is no fairy tale of old

With spinning wheels and flax of gold

Glistening like Viking hair

Shining in the morning air

It’s tales of lint pools , legs in slime

bare and leaches clinging

Tales of rotting in the rain

Of retting , scutching ,

Cutting hooks

Drizzle on the bleaching green

 , pain and

Roses roses all the way

To ruination and decay

A palace called the Bagatelle

Things fall apart - the centre slips away

Another cold and rainy day

Another hot and rainless day

…...