(looks like the monocle man has just spotted the flag in my above post!)
What helps wash down a banquet but a host of pretty notes.
Little quavers, there to savour, on a cloud of wine she floats.
Merry as the day is long, darker than the mood
Men that mock, silly talk, drink that loosens, makes them lewd.
A far cry from their daylight stance, letting down their hair.
Coins enough, to see her buff, and grab a room, perhaps, upstairs?
Despite these shameful actions, the lute still sings along
Her lovely strings, with heavenly wings, knows neither right from wrong.
Again they'll grace the table, gather in their chosen seats
Our courtesan, the friend of man, a lullaby elite.
* * *
I know little of Sir Tournier, but to me this piece depicts
The said above, I state thereof, it had me most transfixed.
To view more masterpieces, though I'll find some 'tres' abstruse
I'll take the chance, and visit France. What will I have? Toulouse!