Fiona

On the eve of this lovely twinkling night

I see your figure in the pale moonlight.

Your beauty is unparalleled, embellished

By ebony locks your mother always cherished

And cornflower eyes that meet mine

With a special sort of sparkling shine.

I reach to you, and as my fingers outstretch

You turn away, looking as though for something to fetch.

The closer I draw gets me nowhere near you,

So, I wonder, perhaps that this is not true.

With a gale so sudden, I find myself thrust

Into the gauche scenery of the tailors’ I distrust.

I stand with a prideful pose that is not mine

An old woman, Patricia, crooked fingers like a vine,

Pokes and prods me with her sewing needles without a care.

Gritting my teeth, I try to bear

Yet her brazen apologies that lack sincerity I cannot stand to hear.

Exhaling deeply to retain my composure, I examine the vision of my reflections

My caramel candied hair is done up in precise sections.

The dazzling gown with hues of blue are an ode to your eyes that I boast

Is to be a dedication and something of a toast

When we are announced together at my father’s next ball

Arm in arm, proud, standing tall.

Fiona, my darling, you’ve stolen my heart

You’ve taken it and held it so gently from the start

It’s for this why I’m willing to endure

Atrocities like this hag’s unwitting mistakes she must know she’s making for sure.

When she looks up at me with senile gray irises, I stare

She’s no longer a person, but instead a swan who flutters off somewhere.

I frown with a mite of concern at what strange magic

Could be occupying my existence; I’ve heard tales and I worry it may be tragic.

Within a blink of an eye, I find myself again transported

This time, to the grandiose hall in which we courted.

The curtains are drawn to display the vibrantly colored garden

It’s the place where I had let my guard harden

As countless suitors would aimlessly flirt with the goal of taking home a trophy wife

A terrible thought and even a more horrible life.

It’s to my relief that this future did not come to be,

Both for you and for me.

When we met by chance on a Friday’s eve, I knew it was fate

Your perfect curves and your courteous smile on that date

The sadness in your eyes and the soft determination in your voice

Led me to understand with clarity what needed to be my choice.

I can still feel it, all so clearly; with the life and love for you I teem,

I open my eyes and I come to realize that it was all a dream.

written for day 9 of the literal challenge's like the prose event.

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