Quiet Maiden

The quiet maiden dusts her laundry with an adept flick of wrists and a resounding SNAP as she flings the cloth with a calm grace over the clothesline. The whole town was celebrating Raucous cheers An extravagant carriage paraded through formerly humble streets Pausing in her chores, the maiden hesitantly, carefully, peeks through the crack between the sheets to see a lady with an ethereal beauty in the window Glowing in her happiness with cheeks as red as the evening sky. The white stallions carried her to her prince, Prince Charming Kingly in looks Charming to all, charmed by none other than the beautiful belle of cinders The maiden turns away, her small feet throbbing against the cobbles she was chained to A memory of the charming prince in her mind, Dancing in his embrace The sounds of the music in the air as crisp as the wind blowing through her skirts The night of the ball Almost perfect, a bliss unlike any she’d felt The town had been alive with murmurs Of the Prince finding his bride With naught but a glass slipper How funny. She, too, lost a glass slipper Returning home from the fantasy of the Prince’s arms But who’s to tell, whether it be hers, Or the princess in the carriage The maiden wrings the water from another sheet As the cheers fell to a low hum in the distance She stowed away the useless thought And carried on with the day’s chores.