THE ENNUNMENT CANTO 2
Sister Olezconia with Another Nun
Negotiations for the kingly year
That Ajinblambia upon Ung’s throne
Would sit had been concluded, her career
Prolongable if she the realm would own
Thereafter and until the day she died,
Provided only she prove apt for rule,
And she and Udi will such reign. Beside,
Another clause within the franchise dual
Invested in the Vrikshaya the powers
To forebespeak and foreordain my fate,
Inditing the agenda of my hours
For all the years she should preside the state.
The liberty to treat me as she would,
In fact, was the condition she’d required
In order for to make, for ill or good,
The promise that the Queen from her desired.
So, it was more than curiosity
Inspiring me to listen as they talked,
With majesty and luminosity,
Of Ung, where many billions worked and walked,
And of Mecnita, capital of Ung,
The mighty kingdom of the planet Nya.
I wondered also whither I’d be flung,
If to a country seat, retreat or spa
They’d send me, or to Ufzu or to Ub.
’Twas certain from the city I’d depart.
I’d leave the chiefest town, Ung’s nave and hub,
And towards another clime my journey start.
“No doubt, O King,” said Udi, with a blush,
As she pronounced the royal vocative,
“You’ll need some time, you will not want to rush,
To specify the ablative and locative
Of Vocno’s relocation and new home,
If that you do elect that he away
As if in short-term banishment do roam,
While you, more carefree, in our palace stay.
At least though, please declare the hour and day
Of your enunciation of the fate
He willy-nilly always must obey.
The data and particulars please state.”
Then Ajinblambia, with regal mien,
Responded nonchalantly, “Very well,
I can decide this matter now, O Queen.
I need no time his fortune to foretell.
I’m ready at this minute, if you please,
To name the persons, places, times and things
I’ve written in his book, the ABC’s
Of the new alphabet his future brings.”
Then Udi said, “In that case, yes indeed,
Relate to us what Vocno is to do,
And I’ll see to it he perform the deed
And run the errand now prescribed by you.”
The Vrikshaya commanded, “Let him dwell
Forever in the convent as a nun,
And let him on his beads of rosewood tell
The number of the litanies he’s done.
Let him be clad in habit to the floor,
With barbe and coif surrounding his sweet face,
And think of royalty’s éclat no more,
Preferring chastity’s more gentle grace.”
I was aghast; the Queen herself was shocked.
“Why will Your Majesty for life commit
Our Vocno to a nunnery, tight locked,
Unto a convent he may never quit?
Since you have but a year agreed to reign,
And so may abdicate, why not immure
Him likewise but four seasons to remain
Lest he in his longevity endure
The cloister though you have done off the crown?
So then upon expiry of the term,
If you elect ne’ermore to put it down,
You will be able Vocno to confirm
Perennial and perpetual a nun,
If it do please you,” Udi did beseech.
To me her words were like a ray of sun
That penetrated clouds above a beach.
I was reluctant even for a year
To undergo the strictitude and rigor
That all the girls and women rightly fear.
I didn’t have the energy or vigor.
But for a lifetime meekly to obey
An abbess as a child obeys her nurse
Would constitute a burden I daresay
Than which no other burden could be worse.
But Ajinblambia explained her mind,
“If I do that it will appear that I’ve
A mere detainee, not a nun, confined.
This would with etiquette and manners strive,
As if the olden convent were profane,
A doss house, an asylum or a jail.
Why should I cause the abbess suchlike pain?
Let me confine him in the nunnish pale
Forever now, in principle, instead.
Then if I shall have chosen to resign
And take the crown of Ung from off my head,
His nunhood to amnesia to consign
It’s possible I’ll choose, or leave intact
Instead th’ ennunment I’ve just now prescribed,
According to my mood and to the act
I shall draw up and duly have inscribed
Before that time,” said she of raven hair.
Queen Udi seemed dismayed. She looked at me
Apologizing for my foot caught in the snare
Unthinkingly she’d looped about my knee.
Both she and I implicitly foreknew
That neither she nor I could bend the will
Of Ajinblambia. We could but rue
The destiny that I must now fulfil.
“O Vocno, are there habits in your suite?
They say they saw you dressed like to a nun,
That you go clad in habits on the street.
I wager in your quarters there is one.”
I uttered half my glossary to say
A simple, “Yes”. Thereat she asked of me,
“But is it made in the Defdefan way?
Their pattern does it follow faithfully?”
The other half now I did answer, “No.”
I couldn’t mention that their canon rules
That nobody the skirting stitch or sew.
The skirts are made by looms with special tools.
“Oh, no?” did Ajinblambia repeat,
“I wonder where Defdefan nunnish weeds
We can obtain, if haply on the street
There is a clothier to fulfil our needs.”
Queen Udi mentioned that she still possessed
The habit she had worn the day we flew,
The day that with the nuns we travelled west
By train to Fwascren, far from Plubac’s crew.
“Go fetch your habit,” now the King did bid,
And Udi, quick to show docility,
Sprang up and in her dressing room now hid.
Returning shortly, with agility
Behind herself two russet leather bags
With brazen zippers, each a hassock’s size,
She drew. On each there were some baggage tags.
She stopped and left them right before our eyes.
“In here, there are the coif, the barbe, the wimple,
The skirt and bodice of the habit too,
The camisole and petticoats, the simple
Brassiere and panties, both quite fresh and new.
The stockings and the garters are inside,
The sash and beads and either low-heeled shoe,
The implements of the trousseau beside:
The bit, the bonds, the mask, the pillows too."
Thus speaking, one by one she now withdrew
The garments, neatly folded, pressed and wrapped
In envelopes of vinyl, and she threw
Them on the oaken table, as she snapped
The garters and the panties to make sure
They had sufficient elasticity.
At last thereout the shoes she did procure.
“They fit so right, it is felicity.”
The King of Ung then looked the room unto
Queen Udi’d tugged the leathern bags wherefrom,
“What is the nature of the room whence you,
With bags behind you, docilely did come?”
“That is my gynaeceum, my boudóir.
Therein a score of dresses I maintain
Lest haply at midday I must afar
On business go,” Queen Udi did explain,
“To my apartment then I needn’t go,
But rather in this dressing room change garb.”
The Vrikshaya inquired, “You will, I trow,
Let Vocno enter to do on his barbe
And all the other biliments you’ve brought.”
“Yes, surely, there are table, mirror, chair,
The best appointments money’s ever bought,
With scents and oil and brushes for the hair.”
The new-crowned, long-haired, lovely lady King
Said, “Vocno, gather up the nunnish weeds
And to the gynaeceum quickly spring,
For to endue yourself now you must needs.
A law I prómulgate for you to hark.
Henceforth in habit only may you walk,
Regardless whether it be light or dark.
No diction not Defdefan may you talk.
Unruliness and indocility
To this new law a crime will reckoned be,
You’ll always have to show ability
To pray a prayer and kneel upon a knee.
Have I made clear my wishes?” “Yes,” said I,
Then hurried to the Queen’s boudóir to dress.
All of a sudden, I was keen to try
The weeds, my zeal I scarcely could suppress.
It suddenly was obvious to me
That all the portents that had foreordained
My cloistered destiny did quite agree
With the commandment of the one who reigned.
This was the joyous, fortunate fruition
Of all the tokens given from on high
That signalled my eventual tuition
Inside the cenoby till that I die.
In Udi’s lovely little dressing room,
I took from out its envelope each weed.
I spread each on the table, and did groom
Myself, undressing quickly, as per need.
Then smoothing and in powder fingering,
Each garment to my face I did bring near
That I might smell and taste the lingering
Of Udi’s fresh immaculacy dear.
I was in raptures, ecstasy and bliss.
I was transported to the other world
As every seam and placket I did kiss.
My former clothes into the chute I hurled.
I slid into the stockings, creamy white,
The garters I did loop my thighs withal,
Adjusting them till they were almost tight
For I would not that either stocking fall.
Now carefully the panties I drew up
And snapped the band about my slender waist.
Unto each breast I pressed the conic cup
Of my brassiere. Each strap I neatly placed
Upon my narrow shoulders, frail and thin.
I let the camisole drop down my arms,
And, taking up the petticoats, stepped in,
Delighted with their flouncy, frilly charms.
I should describe the way the skirt was made.
A loom did weave a circle seven feet
Without a seam or hem. Nor shears nor blade
Cut out the cashmere from a larger sheet.
The selvedge at the waist was woven round.
Tradition with those lovely nuns was such.
I put this on. The folds did spill around.
They tumbled down till they the floor did touch,
Like to a swaying palisade of wool.
Thereafter I picked up the bodice snug
And o’er my head with expertise did pull.
I straightened it adeptly with a tug.
Its sleeves were like my skirt. Like a cascade
Or violet inverted, they hung down.
Across the dressing room did I glissade
With joyousness transcendent. I would crown
Myself in barbe and coif and wimple then.
What preternatural serenities
Suffused my heart of hearts now and again
As I enjoyed these sweet amenities!
Next I put on the shoes with two inch heels
And snapped the strap my ankles looping ’round.
My shawl, which warm, when it is chilly, feels,
About my shoulders I then proudly wound.
Impalming my black purse by its thin strap
And picking up my gloves, perchance I glanced
Into the glass. Imposing was my wrap!
I felt so satisfied I could have danced.
But I decided rather to subdue
My exultation and my soaring joy,
Lest Ajinblambia and Udi rue
My nunnish destiny, their clever ploy,
And find another thing for me instead,
A penance more condign, if I were right
To reckon this as punishment. I said
Unto myself, “I’d better look contrite
Than radiant.” I therefore sober grew,
Appearing placid, staid and dignified,
And stepped from out the dressing room in view
To see if my demeanor signified
What I would have it signify, but they
In unison did chime, “O Vocno, beautiful!
You are the fairest sister of the day,
So proud, erect, reserved and dutiful!”
They oohed and aahed. Such kudos and éclat!
You’d think that I had worked a miracle
By putting on a panty and a bra,
Their praises were rhapsodic, lyrical.
Eventually, excitement did abate,
While we three all together ate a lunch
Of salad, buns and cutlets, with a plate
Of pastries and of golden dates a bunch.
Now Ajinblambia addressed the Queen,
“My darling royal Udi, you remarked
That a ‘trousseau’ was in the bags, between
A couple of the garments, as I harked,
But I confess I did not comprehend
The meaning of ‘trousseau’ that you implied.
Will you define it that I may attend
Your disquisition, for I’ve vainly tried?”
“Oh, that!” said Udi, “They observe a rite
Including rigor and austerity.
To certain that the sisters are contrite
They mortify them with severity.
Inside the convent’s atrium each day,
The postulants two hours are gagged and tied.
The binding is according to the way
Prescribed by old traditions true and tried.”
“How interesting is this thing you tell!
They bind the nuns two hours every day!
It’s absolutely medieval! Well!
I hardly can believe these news today!”
Quoth royal Udi, “It is true, I wot,
They bind the postulants. Tight bonds they wear.”
Asked Ajinblambia, “Did Vocno not
Such gagging and such binding have to bear?”
“Of course he did, each morning. Is it true?”
Asked Udi, who now faced me. I said, “Yes.”
“Each morning for his ninety days, he knew
Exquísite agony and sore distress.”
The Vrikshaya was curious, I saw.
It’s likely she had never heard such tales.
Defdefa’s the lone convent where, by law,
The abbess may inflict suchlike travails.
“Queen Udi, do you know to tie the bows
Wherein Defdefa’s postulants are tied?
I’d like to witness the religious throes
Whereby their faith and chastity are tried.”
“I do,” the lady of meridian
And parallel and tropic did reply,
“And in the bag, their enchiridion
I have, their book that shows the way to tie.
Shall I perform the binding?” I foreknew,
Of course, what Ajinblambia would say,
And girt myself for what the Queen would do.
This was a memorable, fateful day!
From out a leathern bag the Queen did take
Two pillows, made of poplin darkly red.
The smaller was in shape like to a cake,
The larger like the bolster on a bed.
The cake-shaped pillow she put on the floor,
Upon the costly rug ’twas spread withal.
She bade me kneel on top of it, before
Her eyes, assisting me lest I should fall.
I pulled my cashmere skirt down straight, and knelt.
Next to my knees did Udi hoist its fold,
Removing my two shoes and leathern belt,
She left my stockinged calves exposed and cold.
That cylinder, the larger pillow, now
She slipped beneath my ankles, raising high
The right one, then the left one, to allow
Their careful placement thereupon nearby.
My lower shins now rested, but my toes
Were elevated inches o’er the rug.
My medial malleoli did close
Against each other tight as you might tug.
Now royal Udi five black scarves of crepe,
Each measuring five feet, to light produced,
And placed them on the table, next my cape,
There where unto her work she felt conduced.
The first black scarf she sev’ral times did loop
My ankles both around to tie them snug,
And left but little ends that scarce did droop,
Then pulled my skirt back down with just a tug.
She circled one more scarf about my waist
Two times and tied it so that I was cinched.
Sensations in my hips were soon effaced
Because the makeshift sash so sorely pinched.
She bade me at this juncture to sit back
Until my buttocks on my heels did press.
With her third scarf, when threaded without slack.
She tied the other two with strain and stress.
Now was it that I could not rise again.
My bottom, anchored firmly low and deep,
A millimeter’s leeway lacking then,
Soon tingled and grew numb and fell asleep.
My trumpet sleeves like fuchsias upside down
Or swishing skirts around my slender arms
The Queen pinned to the shoulders of my gown
With little pins with heads like magic charms.
“Give me your elbows, Vocno. Should I say,
Dear Sister Rogizlenia, I mean?”
Not daring disobedience display,
I joined my elbows for the royal Queen
Behind my back, though they did not quite touch
Until the Queen another scarf did zone
Them both around, and tauten very much
That length of crepe till bone impinged on bone.
The fifth scarf she did bracelet me withal.
The silken handcuffs sev’ral times did ring
My wrists, but still a meter’s length did fall
And to my garb electrically did cling.
This little streamer Udi threaded through
The loop about my ankles and then back,
Exerting all the effort she could do,
Till I could hear my bones sound a slight crack.
Immobile as a statue made of lime,
I knelt in helpless agony and pain.
However, in two hours’ fleeting time
I’d be delivered from the pious strain.
“How very curious! How quaint indeed!
I didn’t know the nuns performed this rite.
I’d say the strictures of their olden creed
Seem likely nunnish virtue to excite.
Undoubtedly devout docility
Devolves upon Defdefa’s dutiful,
Upon the ones that show ability
Through rigors to be rendered beautiful.”
The goddess Ajinblambia bepraised
The mystery of which she’d seen the sight.
In diction of finality, she praised
The efficacious ritual and rite.
I mean she seemed to think that that was all,
Scarce realizing we were halfway done,
For she was royal; she was great and tall.
She nothing knew of nunnery and nun.
“Well, won’t you see the rest?” the Queen inquired.
“You mean there’s more? I didn’t understand.”
“Oh, yes! Some further measures are required.”
“Then, yes, the canon please don’t countermand.”
From out the bag, a cellophane-wrapped ball
An apple’s size, but colored pearly white,
The Queen extracted, and eftsoons let fall
The shiny wrapper. When I saw this sight,
Without instruction I my mouth oped wide,
While Udi with her fingers and her thumb
The ball of coated putty pressed inside.
The ball did taste and smell like minty gum,
Like resin full of rue or savory.
Queen Udi forced it in the cavity.
It was as if my mouth in slavery
Travailed beneath o’erwhelming gravity.
She bade me bite until my teeth did rest,
The uppers on the lowers, like a lock.
The ball with soft epoxy paste was dressed.
Five minutes passed; my mouth was like a rock.
Then she got out the mask, resembling more
A giant’s boot or legging for the head.
This was the implement that long I wore
As soon as I was risen from my bed
Inside the nunnery, and had been bound.
The mask would cover my whole neck and head,
Both front and sides and back and all around.
Its bottom on my shoulder she’d embed.
Two layers, one of stretchy denim, sewn
To one of tufted satin, black on black,
Composed the mask, whose opening was thrown
Down from the crown unto my upper back.
On either side the opening a score
Of metal eyelets all set in a row,
Just like a corset’s, momently before
She slipped the mask on me and pulled it low,
She threaded with a lace of sturdy string,
Allowing it to be both slack and free,
But once she had emplaced the drastic thing,
She drew the cord as tight as tight could be,
The mask had two small sleeves. Hinged rings therein,
Like those of handcuffs, had been sewn in place.
One fitted underneath my jaws and chin,
As if it had been a prosthetic brace.
The other on my shoulder bones did rest.
In other sleeves, ten stays of metal, flexed,
Rose vertically from ring to ring. When stressed
By Udi’s pulling and her tying next,
The stays did straighten out and push apart
The pair of rings so that my neck grew tall.
The rings then closed. There was a metal part
That kept them from reopening at all.
It was as if my head, fixed on its jack,
Were but a billiard ball within the toe
Of an elastic stocking, tough and black,
Which someone pulled, to see if it would go
Into a pipe much smaller than itself,
So that it lodged in the pipe’s open end.
The Queen took a small lock from off a shelf
And in the lowest eyelets did append.
My coif and barbe, which earlier the Queen
Had taken, she replaced, my sleeves dropped back.
Then she tossed over me the gabardine,
That is, the lovely wimple, soft and black.
My shoes upon the floor beside me lay,
But Udi put my mantle on my form,
To hide the knots. So seemed I but to pray.
All seemed unto the canon to conform,
Except my face, once pink, was black as dye,
Small perforations in the mask there were.
One ’neath each nostril, one before each eye.
I saw both Ajinblambia and her,
As if they had been figures, wrought in art,
Upon a tondo painted with rich oils.
As for myself, I played no social part,
But struggled with my bonds and loops and coils.
Till that no muscle could I flex or stretch,
Except to whimper or to bat my eyes.
The strains of conversation could I cätch.
I was a nun of porcelain, of goodly size,
Like to an ornament, or bric-à-brac,
A gewgaw or a talisman or charm,
Like to a figurine in white and black,
Or bangle dangling on a goddess’ arm.
Ten feet before me stood a mauve chaise longue.
The holes before my eyes were large enough
To let me see the piece, well-built and strong,
With cushions padded with resilient stuff.
Thereon, the ladies sat for to relax,
While Udi called a palace butlery,
Requesting sparkling wine and luscious snacks,
With corkscrew, glasses, plates and cutlery.
Some minutes later came a robot maid,
A wheeled cabinet with drink and food.
The ladies ate a supper and then stayed,
Enlivening with burgundy their mood.
Queen Udi wore a saffron velvet gown,
With lace of ivory and dainty rosepoint trimmed.
The neckline to her cleavage circled down.
The snug corsage her graceful midriff slimmed,
Then widened to become a bell-shaped skirt,
Whereunder there were crinolines of net.
A flouncy petticoat beneath the hem did flirt.
Upon her brow a rose pearl cirque was set.
A row of fifty buttons, caught in loops
Of saffron cord, reached from her bosom sweet
Down to her hem. Her pumps, like glossy scoops
Of patent leather, held her shapely feet.
The ladies were so lovely it were hard
To say which of the two was more superb.
Nor flaw nor blemish their complexion marred
Nor vanity nor anger did disturb
Their fair composure and placidity.
Their lips were roses, satin was their skin.
Their eyes shone with benign lucidity.
They were to heaven’s goddesses akin.
They talked about the space facility
That Ajinblambia had overseen
And installations of utility
That had been built behither and between,
Like the vast mills for steel and for cement,
The power plant that generated volts.
The units that coked coal and alloys blent,
The factories for fittings, parts and bolts.
Then after this report, their topic changed.
First they did compliment each other’s gown
And then their conversation subtly ranged
To figures, hair and soft complexions brown.
The taller lady’s fingers gaily played
Among the flounces, furbelows and lace
Of royal Udi’s dress, and then they strayed
Along her neckline as if there to trace
A semicircle just above her bust,
Her dagger nails tickling Udi’s breasts.
This forwardness left me somewhat nonplussed,
And Ajinblambia’s aplomb attests,
For it was unlike Udi to allow
Romantic episodes and rendezvous
Inside her office. Her rules were changing now,
Apparently, for she did not refuse
The Vrikshaya’s advances and bold moves
Exceeding sisterly affection, it would seem,
The camaraderie that it behooves
Meek ladies quite appropriate to deem.
Then Ajinblambia with nails like swords
Unbuttoned the first button on the dress.
Queen Udi blushed and looked her ankles towards
As if disguising her embarrassed stress.
But I perceived a playful smile suppressed.
The lady King descried it too methought,
For she the second button gently pressed
So it popped from the loop wherein ’twas caught.
Behind it, Udi’s saffron silk brassiere
Shone with a satin sheen, both round and full.
Her bosom, lovely, generous and dear,
Erotically upon the straps did pull.
Then one by one the buttons came undone,
Till Udi’s dress was open all the way.
What might I do, a helplessly bound nun,
To curb this courtship and romantic play?
Queen Udi rose six inches from her seat,
While Ajinblambia did off her gown.
She slipped off her right sleeve, and did repeat
By slipping off her left. The dress came down
And lay in folds upon the mauve chaise longue.
Then Ajinblambia the cords untied
That did to her net crinolines belong,
These and her petticoats she tossed aside.
Clad but in saffron panties and brassiere,
With gartered stockings pale tangerine,
Sat Udi list’ning to what words she’d hear.
Oh, what a gorgeous body had the Queen!
They’d drunk a good amount of sparkling wine.
The ladies were both tipsy and aroused.
They kissed and hugged and fondled. ’Twas divine
To see them passionate as they caroused.
At last, the bra came off. The nipples stood
Erect as ruddy fingers, and the lips
Of Ajinblambia were not withstood.
Her hand began to grope the royal hips.
That rounded tummy, that erotic slit,
Now had another owner. I, deforced
From my estate, in bonds and mask did sit,
While Ajinblambia had us divorced
Forever and forever. She had won.
She had the mighty swords and gunnery,
And I would ever be a silly nun,
Enclosed inanely in a nunnery,
To practise modesty, timidity,
Docility and chastity, the four
Defdefan virtues, with lucidity
Enunciated by the nuns of yore.
The smell of oestrus filled the sultry air.
My eyes peeped through the eyelets in my mask.
The full and shapely breasts, beyond compare,
Did beg for kisses and for lips did ask.
I was enjoying the romance far more
Than if I’d in the King’s position been.
She was a lover I could well adore,
As if I were ensconced within her skin.
For I was feeble, feckless and effete
In matters amatory and romance.
Her glamour and her glory I might greet,
And, like her cheerleader, now prance and dance,
In my imagination, as it were,
For I was wrung and strung, and bound and wound.
I could but sniffle tinily or purr
A kitten’s purr. My heart did barely pound.
Queen Udi had grown drowsy drinking wine,
But Ajinblambia was still alert,
“Let me take thee to bed, O darling mine!”
“Oh, very well,” said she as if to flirt.
So Ajinblambia hugged Udi tight
With her left arm, while underneath her knees
She lifted her so gently with her right,
As if she’d been a feather in the breeze,
Then to the royal bedchamber, celeste
And violet and white, bore her away,
Aroused and ready for to be undressed,
And naked, to be laid and loved till day.
They had forgotten me, nor could I cry
Or elsewise token that I was in straits
Wherefrom delivery I couldn’t try.
’Twas the most agonizing of all states.
I hardly slept at all for all my pain,
For usually the nuns are bound two hours.
I wiggled and I wriggled quite in vain,
But moving just an inch surpassed my powers.
The royal office had been brightly lit,
But as the ladies left, a dimmer switch
That sensed no movement, softened bit by bit
The lamp that stood in the rocóco niche
Upon my right, carved in floridity.
It did become me that I knelt nearby,
For in my statuesque rigidity,
I fitly with an ornament did vie.
At last, however, I saw shades of blue
That tinctured all the vastnesses of heaven,
At first just faintly, and then morning flew
Before the Sun. I’d say ’twas nearly seven.
I heard some strains of laughter from beyond
The door to Udi’s bedchamber, and then,
All of a sudden, when peignóirs they’d donned,
The ladies in the room appeared again.
“Oh, look!” said Udi, “We forgot our nun.
Our Sister Rogizlenia’s still bound.
We must undo her bindings one by one,
The scarves and biliments wherein she’s wound,
Lest she expire from agony and grief.
How can we expiate our sore neglect,
For she is not a felon or a thief,
But rather one we owe it to protect?”
At once the ladies did unlace my mask,
Then loosened five crepe scarves that held my wrists
And ankles. Udi mournfully did ask
That I allow her to spray me with mists
That would dissolve and soften by degrees
The cud of putty that my mouth enclosed.
At last I rose till I stood on my knees
And sought to make myself somewhat composed.
In sev’ral minutes, I had gotten up,
And stood with aches and pains, and sores and sprains,
Unto my lips I raised a flowing cup
And sought to wake awareness in my brains.
I must have set a record to be tied
Ten hours in all the scarves of silken crepe.
Some minor bruises and some cramps inside
Were consequences I could not escape,
But, all in all, I did extremely well
In this ordeal fortuitously dealt
By fortune or misfortune, for so fell
A torment I before had never felt.
The ladies, locking tight the office door
Lest I run out and seek to take to flight,
Retired to Udi’s bedchamber once more
To dress more fully than they’d done at night,
By doffing those chemises and peignóirs
So sheer and titillating, gay and chic,
And donning dresses in the Queen’s boudóirs
That did their weighty business forebespeak.
That business would be to exile myself
Unto the distant convent in the west.
They two were willing to disburse the pelf
That it would cost our rivalry to rest,
The rivalry the Vrikshaya and I
Had long kept strenuous, intense and bold,
Both hungry for the apple of our eye,
The Queen of Ung and her domain of gold.
But we were two and Udi was but one.
So Ajinblambia was victress over me.
She’d be the King and I would be a nun,
A century confined and never free.
Whenas the ladies were all kempt and clad,
They came into the office once again.
Betwixt themselves a covenant they had,
Apparently, on what thing they’d do then.
They sat on chairs each other that did face,
And talked a while. I listed still and mute.
Their syllables and sentences did trace
An argument that I could not refute.
Queen Udi said, “Let’s telephone the nun
Who's ruled Defdefa Convent many years,
An abbess to whom equal there is none,
A lady who is destitute of peers.
She’s Sister Olezconia by name,
But let me caution that she may be loth
To welcome Rogizlenia, the same
Who caused her scandal and annoyance both,
When it came out that she was just a man,
A sissy in a habit and a veil.
The abbess may resent our latest plan
To put inside her nunnery a male.
It’s true that Vocno compensated her
For all the trouble he had brought about.
His money she received without demur,
When, having gone to Trípolis to scout
Around to find Tandóling, he did earn
A rich reward from high authority.
With penitence his noble heart did burn,
So he endowed his old sorority.”
The Vrikshaya did meditate a while,
But finally she said, “Do I command?
Am I the King of Ung, or is it guile
That you have placed the scepter in my hand?”
“Of course you rule,” the Queen was quick to add,
“However, old Defdefa Convent long
A measure of autonomy has had,
Enjoyed an independence proud and strong.
You surely should not now annihilate
A centuried tradition of our realm,
Longstanding understandings violate,
And steer the royal ship with a false helm.”
The goddess Ajinblambia agreed,
“You’re right. Diplomacy instead to use
’Twere better. Let us with the abbess plead
Our cause with equity she can’t refuse.
A lavish gift enabling her to plan
An annex to the convent we will give.
We will apologize for that a man
We ask of her there to permit to live
As if he were a nun a hundred years,
For him to pray and sing and serve and work
Like any other sister. If she fears
A scandal or a sin therein does lurk,
We will allow her any step to take,
Or measure to resort to, if need be,
Because her reputation is at stake,
And us as friends we would desire she see.”
Two scroll phones Udi took her desk from out,
And pressing on each phone a special key,
Caused to project and then revolve about
A screen that seemed to be two feet by three.
She handed one unto our gorgeous King.
The other she herself in hand then took.
“O Olezconia, a special thing
We would discuss with you, if you will look
Into your video device perchance,”
Said Udi, as if talking to a ghost
That quite invisibly did prance and dance
In middle air. A minute, at the most,
Elapsed before the abbess could be seen,
With cheeks of ivory and lips of rose,
Appearing televised on either screen,
“Your wish is my command, as Heaven knows,”
Replied the abbess deferentially,
For she knew that Queen Udi, ever kind,
Was wont to treat her preferentially,
According to the leanings of her mind.
“Dear Sister Olezconia, the King,
This Ajinblambia you now behold,
Craves your indulgence on a weighty thing
We must needs deal with, if the truth be told.
Do you recall the nunlet you once kept
Within your nunnery who fled by night?
Her name was Rogizlenia. We’ve wept
Such tears for all the sorrow and the fright
She did occasion. We apologize,
But ask that you receive her once again.
Don’t hasten vainly to homologize
This new confinement to the one of then.
Assurances we make ’twill be discreet.
Nor scandal nor disruptions will ensue.
We hope that you will find all this quite meet.
The King is willing to reward your due.
A lavish bounty will befortune you,
Enabling you the convent to enlarge.
There’ll be sums for appurtenances too,
If you will take this novice in your charge.”
The abbess did reply, “That’s very kind,
Both saintly gracious and magnanimous.
For my part, to assist you I’m inclined.
Unto this novice I’ve no animus.
There are some problems we should first review.
I hope you do my meaning apperceive.”
Queen Udi answered, “Yes, there’s nothing new,
I’d be remiss attempting to deceive.
We do invite you now to be our guest
Within our oval domes a day or so.
Please fly Air Fwascren hither from the west,
Our Thrulxmarj down to Jezgroid we’ll have go,
To fetch you in a palace limousine
When in the capital you do arrive.
Just say you are the one to meet the Queen.
To Eldor Palace you and he will drive.”
They then their screens into their phones withdrew,
Concluding they had handily devised
The prompt transition that they looked unto,
So suddenly by our new King advised.
Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wilson/8763890/
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