Official Mistress

‘My lady, your loss is too great,’ she hears a gentle voice

Some compassionate mourner, someone trying to be nice

To acknowledge the greeting, she turns to the side

Yet, surprised she is to find no one there, except for her gloomy aide

Then it struck her, she wasn’t the Duchess, not the Duke’s wife

She has a label ‘the official mistress,’ though she loved him with her life

Mourners glide towards the Duchess, expressing their sympathy

While the mistress gets only awkward glances, disapproving stares, without the presence of any empathy

True! She had not vowed in front of God to be true to him in sickness and health

Yet, she had cared for him, with a heart pure, full of love, and no stealth

She was there for him during his good times and the bad ones too

She belonged only to him, her heart was pure, and her love was true

Now near the grave, the Duchess stands with her son, out of duty

A perfect widow, a picture of grief, yet manages elegance and beauty

She was the wife of a Duke and is now the mother of one

She looks at the mistress, her eyes mocking, ‘See now, who has won!’

Consoling herself that she has not yet lost everything

The mistress pats lovingly her belly, the only thing to which she has to cling

So what if she is the Duke’s mistress and what if she does mother a bastard

She walks out of the grave, holds her head high – a skill that she has, by now, mastered


Inspired from The Tudors - The plight of Charles Danton's mistress

Stranger in her Bed...

Her eyes full of sorrow, a part of her heart weeps, as she leaves behind her
Everything she's owned, everybody she knew - mother, father, sister, and brother
Yet, a larger part of her heart rejoices, as she knows that she now begins a life brand new
She looks with awe at her new husband, thinking she's among those blessed few

As her first day wears on, she looks from the corner of her eye for a sign from her better-half
She cannot follow him, as million eyes follow her, seeking for a serious gaffe
Treading carefully, slowly, she hovers around him, follows him like a shadow
Though he doesn't look at her in the eye, she can now see, plain and clear, his countenance is hollow

Women surround her, decorating her like a doll, they taunt her about 'the night' and giggle
They lead her to the room noisily, they laugh, tease, and tickle
The night approaches fast, her heart beats faster, as she senses her anxiety grow
He just stands there, not even glancing her way, why? the answer she doesn't know

Suddenly, it turns dark and she feels faint, as he undresses her and into her bed he climbs 
No love, no gentleness, like a blood-thirsty monster, onto her, he looms
As tears spill out, she bites her lip, bleeding it, stopping herself from screaming out in pain
She thinks the worst is over, and then she hears him screaming another woman's name again and again

Her eyes well up and tears warmly trickle down her face, which is now savaged 
She lay there, like a ragged doll, her heart broken, her body and soul ravaged
Her home, her life, and her dreams, all destroyed by a stranger in her bed
Is there no way out of this misery? Or is she as good as dead?