Surrounded
By old friends and new ones
Yet to be properly
Introduced.
I sit next to Dickens, Tolstoy
But mostly, Jane.
Jane Austen sits
Opposite me.
Blue lace, petticoats clean
Secretly, inking out a few phrases
When she thinks,
I’m not watching.
But I have mastered the art
Of seeing sideways.
We cannot sip tea,
Far too late in the evening.
The laws of decorum forbade it.
Nor, shall we eat a few
Crumbly scones.
For we would be loathe
To leave a trail of crumbs
Like mice.
A sentence or two written,
She nods politely
And they stay.
Harsher tones, a few angry voices,
Her brows furrow, cheeks flush.
She turns away for a full ten minutes.
But such trifles are easily
Forgiven.
Time for writing ceases,
And Jane picks up
Her quill and paper,
Curtseys and exits.
Leaving me alone
To settle the disputes
Of Dickens and Tolstoy.
*Photo: 20091204_Hermitage_library_002 by Friar’s Balsam, obtained through Flickr.