Patricia loved her mask
She wore it everywhere
Even in the shower.
At night she’d place it beside her bed
In a place within arms length
Should the need to slip it on occur.
She’d arrive at breakfast
And using a straw suck up her coffee.
Slurping and burping the last few drops.
Her mother frowned, her father scolded
But Patricia was a law unto her self.
Call me Zelda she announced
And flounced off to irritate
Mr Gray the elderly neighbour.
She pounded on Mr Gray’s back door
Called: “Mr Gray, its Zelda mysterious woman of the night
Come to raid you and your house.”
Mr Gray was a happy old man and humoured Zelda
Hoping she’d go away and leave him to his morning cuppa.
At Mardi Gras time Patricia
Put on her loudest dress
Attached feathers to her mask
Hung Grandma’s fascinator
Stood and made up her story in front of the mirror.
She looked a sight prancing around.
She was Princess Amy
Alluring woman of intrigue.
Each year she slipped into the parade
No one cared too much
Over the years they expected Patricia to be there
In her mask of many colours
With just as many personalities.
One year she didn’t appear
Her nephew marched
Holding her mask high upon a shield
Princess Amy it said, was now at rest.