Beguile

Pressed pointedly

In a protester’s hall,

My gaze rigid

As some notes fall.

Neck muscles taught

As I stare straight,

Fingers fumbling

While I wait.

She sits beside me

With an angel’s smile;

The stage is set,

Hope wafts down the aisle.

The orchestra plays

With pure emotion,

While maids and witches

Toy with devotion.

Some singers bellow

Verses of love;

Others recite words

To lay a bluff.

Uberto is then duped

To our own merriment,

And Dido is deserted

To her own detriment.

And the angel just

Sits, simply smiling,

Her impassivity

The more beguiling.

Her beauty noticed

By the bow nearby;

Her intellect drawn

By the horsehairs’ sigh.

Exiting the church

They speak in peace,

But my heart’s beat

Refuses to cease.

Envy inelegant

Sets with the night,

But where hope seemed lost,

A chink of light.

Her chariot awaits,

She offers to drive

(Minus the bow,

Who fails to connive).

She roams the streets,

Unsure of the city;

I just babble,

My tongue too free.

When we stop, silence

Fills our space,

And as we hug,

Her hair guards her face.

I say goodbye, walk

The wrong direction –

I should have moved her hair,

Upon reflection.