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

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