Rural Hours

Life away from the city theatres and salons
was always going to be different.
No society ladies with their fashionable frocks:
silk and satin, ribbons and feathers,
carefully placed gemstones drawing the eye
to a hint of cleavage, a bare shoulder.

Here, in the country, the smart set
dress with understated opulence,
proclaiming wealth and status
with classic cuts, with quality fabrics.

Occasionally there is a showman,
that one man - it is always a man -  of such
supreme wealth that he can get away
with ostentation and flamboyance,
his physique emphasised by emerald waistcoats,
his throat adorned with the flash of ruby cravats.
Around him even the most dour matrons
flutter like moths drawn to a lamp,
like hummingbirds drawn to sugar.