Scandal in a Dress
Wrapped in a fabric–
Or is it fabrication?
Her cloak of silk suspicion
That taunts imagination.
Not a word behind her smile,
Only a whisper to the air,
Yet her silence has me caught
In the darkness of her hair.
So shall she take me, this
Scandal in a dress?
I cannot allow it.
I will not say yes.
But what of the dances,
The footsteps into hell?
A flirtation with forever
Only a lady knows so well.
So if the dances be our end,
May the dances be our best,
For I will gladly take her hand, this
Scandal in a dress.
This poem is about:
Me