Magpie Tales # 2

Second of Willow's Magpie Tales prompts.

Burning love

When I saw my Slovak kitten
For the first time, I was smitten,
And decided everything I had, I’d give ‘er.
Darling Mimi was so fair,
She had yards of golden hair
That flowed down from her armpits like a river.

She was a dancer sans decorum
At Bratislava’s Hotel Forum
And every night I’d book a stage-side table.
I had only eyes for her
And her prop – a stole of fur –
And Jesus, how I yearned to be that sable!

I was an office clerk from Prague
With a healthy Guten Tag
When Cupid turned his bow in my direction.
I was hooked, I was besotted,
While in work, I schemed and plotted
To win this sexy Slovak’s deep affection.

I bought her bracelets bright and shiny
And gold earrings far from tiny,
A necklace that could grace a royal trachea.
But when it came to sex,
Mimi wouldn’t accept Czechs,
Like many loyal daughters of Slovakia.

Still, I showered her with presents,
Pewter creamers and stuffed pheasants,
Till she complained she had no place to store ‘em.
Thus I spent my meagre earnings
On my voyeuristic yearnings
Each night at Bratislava’s Hotel Forum.

As you might guess, it couldn’t last,
The money ran out far too fast,
As money tends to do in Bratislava.
So I burgled rich men’s houses,
Robbed fine trinkets from their spouses
With a pistol and a fetching balaclava.

Eventually it ended,
I was smartly apprehended
And was shown no mercy by the twelve man quorum.
For five long years I languished,
Tortured nightly as I anguished
Over dreams of Bratislava’s Hotel Forum.

When at last I served my time
For my passion-centred crime,
They snapped the bolts and slid across the catches.
The only thing that I possessed
(Except my ardour-fuelled zest)
Was a solitary half a box of matches.

I walked back into the city
With my burden of self-pity,
For I had no money for a stage-side table.
And my dear unfaithful Mimi
Said she didn’t want to see me,
For she’d found a man financially more stable.

So now I’m back here in this cell,
Destined doubtlessly for Hell,
Mass-murder often causes a palaver.
But it was such a lovely sight
As the flames lit up the night
From the Hotel Forum down in Bratislava.