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
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