The punk rock princess in Parisian dress.
Spitting on the fascist regime.
Garbed in arrest warrants that wear your name.
The high-class socialite, leant against the railings.
Elbows propped, but teeth determined.
Papers and pamphlets in hand, pins on your lapel.
The granddaughter of the Maharajah
As a nurse in Brighton, turning from the Empire,
Tending to India’s wounded under Britain’s name.
The Sikh suffragette watched on lists, feared but free.
Racking up fines that would cost your principles to pay –
London’s courts want your taxes, but not your input.
The woman of oppositions pitched and plotting in Hampton Court.
If the kings want to keep your diamond,
You can reclaim their crown jewel.
Molly Burns - poet 