Natalie Nice

Natalie Nice did not like vice
She ironed all her creases twice.

Her smile was wide
Her eyes were bright
She knew that she was wholly right.

Her voice was sweet
Her knife was sharp
She thought she’d like
To play the harp.

She always had a lot to say
And taught the world to work and pray
And when she knew you fairly well
She’d warn you off from going to hell
And teach you all the things she knew,
That fear was bad
And so were you.

And thus she did the things she could
And all the things that good girls should.
But Love itself she never found
The well of love
Dark and profound
From which the living waters flow
Was somewhere that she would not go.

With all her inclinations tamed
Her passions were as yet un-named

And though she giggled,
Seldom laughed
She thought that comedy was daft.

So seriously she smiled
And sighed

And in her secret room
She cried.




 Sarah de Nordwall 1995