OF GIN AND GEMSTONES:

She was merely a relic of times long gone,

Of the old Raj, where gold sun once shone,

A colonial product, of the Empire´s glory,

Now merely chapter, in past´s dusty story.

 

Of kowtowing servants, from dawn to dusk,           

Now she sits all alone, just a dried old husk,

From wakening each day, in rose-pink morn,

To ancient memories, well fingered & worn.

 

Now all that remains, from her glorious days,

None of the glad-rags, now merely all that frays,

Just her gin of forgetting & exotic old gemstones,

History´s stories, within her withered old bones.