Her and Me

[Poetry]

The light danced on the calm blue waters

As the woman dressed in white slowly saunters

To her nearby chair as all eyes turn to stare.

My heaving heart strains my chest more than I can bear

For one look at her and it is there, plain for all to see,

She is a woman at a ball of girls so very ripe with jealousy.

But those stares, those stares! All set with rage

For she not an heiress nor governess, but a simple page.

Perhaps it is the dress she wears that earns the unjust glare.

The flowing gown of fresh fallen snow a prompt

Of their honor tattered and purity swamped

With the lusts of youth. How they hate her

And spurn her for being lowly cur.

For only wearing what she should

I would pull away there unkind looks if I could

For here I sit with my future wife to be

And only hope that she takes a look me.