So many trickle in; by ones and twos
The not-so-tiny people find the place.
They wear fantastic masks, or painted face
and whimsical diguises to confuse
The stern and disapproving, dogma-bound
Who hunt the higher nail and squeaky wheel.
They seem to ask permission, please, to feel,
And seem prepared, til then, to mill around
And watch Jocasta's friends and pupils play.
Elizabeth approaches like they're wild
And frightened animals, and they, beguiled,
Think: "I should dash away, but, no, I'll stay."
She smiles. "Come play. Be wanton or be coy.
Jocasta will absolve the sin of joy."
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