Lady Charlotte

Lady Charlotte, flat seventeen,

Beautiful woman, still fit and slim,

Became a widow a bit too soon

In fact, just after the honeymoon.

…

Mr Kent – the absent,

Victim of fatal car accident,

Was also too young to die…

Thirty-four or thirty-five.

…

“It was supposed to be”

Everybody thought.

But Lady Charlotte

Had a plan B

That nothing would stop

Not even destiny!

…

She dressed in black, red lipstick,

Pink underwear – ‘cause men are weak,

And off she went to the karaoke

Looking a mix of naive and dotty,

A beauty spot on the right chic…

…

“Lets see if I can find a man with good taste!”

Lady Charlotte had no time to waste,

She asked for a vodka with soda and lime…

“This won’t take me too long,

No more than a song,

And I’ll be married again in no time!”

…

Strange thing, that sixth sense!

Even stranger coincidence

Was that Mr. Moore,

Respectable bachelor,

Was, at the time, the singer on stage.

A touch of French perfume,

Smiles flying like a plume…

And she had the bird in a cage!

…

To cut a long story short,

Lady Charlotte found consort

Proposal and diamond ring…

And against gossip and rumour

She kept the sense of humour

And married again in that same Spring.

…

But Lady Charlotte would regret!

Always happens when you fret,

And destiny is nasty sarcasm!

Mr. Moore had a heart condition

And playing long games of friction

Cause him more than an erotic spasm.

…

And for the second time – how cruel?

Lady Charlotte went to the funeral

Of her late husband and mate.

She put back the black dress,

Sunglasses hiding the stress,

Suppressing tears against fate!

…

And as ashes went back to ashes

And the dust went back to dust,

Lady Charlotte fluttered her eyelashes, 

In her eyes a spark of lust…

“No more chances, no more trust!”

She thought in a flit of fun…

“Next time it will be for free

‘Cause I’ll will ask for warranty

And a full month of trial run”.