A woman’s mind is her castle.

I grew up and out of these ancient walls aglow with music and memories, buried bones under flowerbeds.

The tables fed my darling boy while I was out at sea, the halls lined satin waistcoats with ballad hospitality.

Where as a child I slept dreamily in the soft white principal suite, as a woman her soft words built up integrity.

The art inspired, the books provoked, the piano begged to be played…

Like the man climbing the ivy for the belle of the ball, we’ll build our minds and break down walls and then we’ll dance till three.

Our babes will bask in the afterglow, after all, we’ve been set free.

The Women’s College, Sydney – 1892 –