The princess and the scamp

The scamp

Neath the yellow of gilded shades,
She glowed with radiance bright,
A look at her glistening pink,
And his heart burst outright.

The ballroom shone with riches many,
With their tempered murmurs soft,
Out in the cold, he could hear no one,
As he tried to peer aloft.

She moved with grace unseen,
She laughed with poise unheard,
With the alchemic touch of hers,
She had turned his heart to gold.

His eyes full with giddy joy,
The scamp ran back to his cave,
Leaving behind but a haze of breath,
On the arched frozen panes.

Yet, what he failed to see,
Was the sad melancholic eyes,
Behind the well worn masks,
The smiling lips, an epitome of lies.


The princess

Neath the light of gilded shades,
She strode through the crowd,
The same aged yellow haze,
The same nauseating sound.

The ballroom shone with many a rich,
Stinking of their pompous selves,
Yet she had caught one innocent eye,
By the window besides the shelves.

She moved with grace as ever,
A monotonous show of poise,
Bored with made up faces around,
His pure eyes she did rejoice.

And yet as sudden as he had come,
The scamp had take his leave,
Leaving her but a haze of breath,
Behind the window weave.

She wished she could wish aloud,
To stop the boring violin,
To open up the window sil,
To let the little one in.

But alas, she was bound,
By rigid strands of her tier,
She had to smile her fake smile,
Though she wished to be elsewhere.