News travels fast, and tones begin to hush
The subjects proceed to fuss and preen.
Lights are lowered, the sun subdues;
The ambience glows of a royal blue,
As the fragrant skies bow to their queen.
She lingers on the horizon, fingers entangled
in the raw cobalt silk ribbons on her bodice;
A shadowy eye looks up and twinkles,
lined with dark coal, iris periwinkle;
It is time for the arrival of the goddess.
She steps forth, her satin train sweeping;
She blushes, scarlet, and glides with grace.
Diamonds embellish her lush black braid,
And the sapphires on her neck cascade;
As dark curls kiss her crescent face.
The clocks chime a dozen melodies,
And the harps strike out a number.
But as dreams fulfil playful mischiefs
She tiptoes out, the evanescent mystic,
with a whisper of tomorrow in slumber.
