Doyennes of the English aristocracy,
They posed as the three witches for a jape,
Not dressed as lurid hags, or Hecate,
But to see their Lords and lovers agape.
A Viscountess, a Duchess, and their friend,
(A sculptress who'd have arranged the tableaux),
They wielded charms and beauty to one end:
To forge history with a kiss's blow.
No adder's fork, witch's mummy, hemlock
Digg'd 'i th' dark (no hint of damnation),
For the pot, just a rose and carnation,
And a swatch from a Lady's prettiest frock.
Natheless, look at their eyes: come-hither, yes,
And alight with their men's powerlessness.
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