She caught his eyes across the room,
Like the blink of a diamond;
With a subtle smile and glass of wine,
She lured him out into the gardens.
In her mind were romantic scenes,
Storybook courtships not unlike Shakespeare's,
She stood at the verandah
And there he was, immaculate.
Her mane of curls teased in the night winds,
Her graceful limbs moved like a dance;
"Are you after my heart?" She smiled.
His finger on her lips, "No, just your skirt."
Copyright © thearcticstar 2016
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