Great Majestic Ball

It's the evening of the year The great majestic ball. I go along trembling with fear No one will ask me to dance at all. The lights are blazing above The musicians strike up their chords In the eyes of some, shows expectant love, In others, time they can ill afford. The dance floor is polished to the hilt So the dancers can glide with ease. Some Scottish laddies dressed in highland kilt Serving wine and nibbles which will please. I sit amongst the ladies and their idle chatter The lights catching a glint of tiara-erred heads Note book clenched between sweating palms Dance spaces at the ready for any suitor to read A minuet is played, the ladies hold their partners hands Just a light touch from glove to glove The soft music emulates a wonderful sound, Stirring a thought or two towards love Back to my chair he gallantly leads me Bowing slightly as he helped me to sit Would you do me the honour, he asks, Let me fill in the vacant spaces in your list. I sit there dreamily thinking of what this might bring Is this the man to fulfil my needs. I then wake up with a start, as the kettle sings, To face my hungry family which I need to feed. Penned 15 November 2014