Damsel In Distress

The long wait at the veranda when will the lovely face appear the window bars are familiar enclosed by the grip of the long fingers delving into the soft cheeks tender She does not ventures out at all a prisoner withing the walls self-willed or by force of elders no inkling of mystery under wraps There is no way to forget the gravitation pull all around like the stones hurtling down unstoppable in their momentum The imagination creates an image of stunning features of delicacy a desire to act with chivalry to save the damsel with alacrity