Secret Love of Marie Antoinette

SECRET LOVE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE The raving of last night is everywhere, she hopes in candle-light; she sets her hair, while Paris lulls to sleep, the storm goes on more promises to keep, before the dawn. More lightning gloats her room, she shakes her head, and thunderous, the gloom would raise the dead; in shadows from the sound, where devils wait, she feels them all around, but it is late; and so she puts aside her greatest fear, the feeling someone's died, and very near. he sees her in the glow and flashing light, from where she does not know. He waits tonight, behind her closing door, he's never seen, he waits to love her with his guillotine so beautiful in dreams he's always known her look not what it seems, but his alone. He's put her in his head, his mortal sin, her love is just as dead as he has been all of his life and time, eternally, and love can't be a crime, if meant to be. © ron wilson aka ron arbuthnot aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet