Silver Slippers
Silver slippers sliding off her feet, sparkling heels,
Suspended beat of the air, the feel of surrender
to the pumpkin skies, the rise of parting souls.
Bare feet, barely touching the stairs; the tip toes
of spiraling rails. Her midnight blue gown swooshing,
swaying, twirling. The moon glittering like her tiara.
Poof, like magic, she’s disappeared, as his hands
fondle one of the shapely shoes; perfect though
they’d been used in romantic tango half the night.
The cool night air still holds her lips, her breath,
the essence of her charm, her slippers. He dare not
turn back the clock - hears its melody chiming.
Her timing was impeccable, almost laughable, as
the princess-dolts had already stepped on his toes,
their knees creaked, and all were wildly anxious.
But she showed up at the top of the stairs,
suspended time, then descended the winding
way, all along lifting his eyes, biding her time.
The only son, ready to take the throne -
his palms were wet, his knees trembled,
love at first sight, before she even spoke.
She didn’t disappoint. She could sing and dance.
Where did she come from? He’s too entranced
to ask, but as courage comes the clock strikes.
and she runs
away like a ghost…
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