Lyra's Loves

Lyra ‘s got a new  psycho analyst,
She’s got her best pants in a twist.
He interprets all she says
In  slick post Freudian ways.

So  now poor Lyra’s gone   dumb
She has regressed to sucking herthumb.
She has gained  new insights
Into envy,jealousy and spite.
But  no joy,love and delight?
Talking about these virtues  might
Bring Lyra’s voice back,
Create a space for her  Mac
She might write poetry about her  life.
The analyst says she should be a wife.
But Lyra loveswith an Emperor
So no earthly man can tempt her
Away from Mark Antony’s desire
For her to reign with him over his Empire.
Well marrying an MP or a plumber
Does not have quite the same cachet.
So she is married in her dreams at night
When real men are well out of sight,
And Mark Anthony  is by her side
 While  their  sweet ship gently  glides.
What a shock Lyra feels at seven,
When the alarm  breaks up her heaven.
She goes to her  artist’s atelier,
Plays some great  Paul Tortelier,
And she paints her pictures, and dreams.
She devises more complex themes.
Till she sees her analyst at six,
To get her next unconscious fix

I welcome comments and criticism

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