The Procureur de la République (the Public Prosecutor) has - they say - issued a writ to capture Ol' Khayyam for having - some say - raped the Resident Maid of the Lake and put her in the family way...

The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake – Part Seventeen

Of late the tepid cold only rebousse poil her coyness
Nowhere the slushy mud caked into strands of crunchiness
Even the over-mothering coots let their chicks roam all alone
Sand and soil slop in swishing puddles down her tress fullness

Darkness bloomed along her gamboling Riviera façade
Window-panes like so many cryptic poker-face cards invade
While amber-lit promenades reflect once debutante gaiety
Now swans sail in wanton jerks into the late evening jade

Cocky sea-gulls from far-off cascades spurn the land-locked lake
Screech and caw like white-crows and bully bread crumbs from swan beak
All over her borderless skirts droop stems and stalks fading downcast
And the froth and foam gather at the Prefecture’s northern gate

Was she ailing in the meniscus all summer to icy spring?
The promenade of choice girding the Prefecture like a sling
Stayed slammed and riveted with the gate gutter over-flowing
Some said ‘twas the asylum seekers broke into the building

To rob official stamps and cartes de sejour to gain false entry
Others less scrupulous thought Omar the culprit roaming free
Said some the Procureur made out a writ for his instant capture -
Abetted, said they, by the Resident Maid – our Bard sans country!

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014