Allure of Austen
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a woman in possession of a large comfy chair Must be in want of a book.
There’s pleasure pulsing through the pages,
Warmth of a world wrapped within words,
Familiarity found in favourite phrases.
I soak in scenes of sibling civility,
Luxuriate in lines of love and longing,
Bask amid bonnets, bows and beaus,
Lace tucks and letters, ladies and luncheons.
Pin tucks and pin curls, pin money,
The promenade for prospective proposals.
Passing time in past times,
Lost in Austen.
Beautiful balls in banquet halls,
Dancing a reel with dashing and regal
Mr. Darcy.
Of course I’m Eliza Bennet;
Eloquent, intelligent, blessed with easy elegance,
A heroine with heart and humour
filled with fire and fierce affections.
Outside, wars rage and rain rattles windows,
Bleak and blustery, I’m battle weary.
My battered book beckons me to bed,
Where, burrowed beneath my blankets,
I read to reject reality.
Pemberley awaits,
A perfect ending.
About the Creator
Angel Whelan
Angel Whelan writes the kind of stories that once had her checking her closet each night, afraid to switch off the light.
Finalist in the Vocal Plus and Return of The Night Owl challenges.
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