Helen Obona and the Wrath of the Swans Helen Obona, daughter of the king of Almadeen, Implored the Lord of Beauty once to keep her form pristine Forever—free from all the smirches of caducity. Her plea was granted by the Lord with one necessity: She must refrain from using any man-made maquillage, Or out of bile, the Lord would send a gigantesque barrage Of savage swans that would deform her face and pluck her hair. Helen Obona thought the deal was justified and fair. Years passed. She had become a queen. Her glamour grew each day. One eve, before attending an affinal grand soirée, To vest up well, she sat before the glass, admired her whole Majestic figure, and (unmindfully) took up the kohl. Then, at the very moment when she used it 'round her eyes, A wedge of swans from cumulus clouds winged down from the skies. They stormed the fort, pecked at the guards, walled in her dressing cell, Besmirched her blue-streaked, velvet mantua, and raised all hell, And as they beaked and bit her head, Helen Obona's face Began to form sharp puckers, losing all its drop-dead glaze. The courtiers who sighted this stood frozen in a stun; Their empress, who looked young, became a crone of 51. Shamik Banerjee Shamik Banerjee is a poet from India. He resides in Assam with his parents. His poems have appeared in Fevers of the Mind, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, and Westward Quarterly, among others.
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September 2024
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