My response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #110
With her flushed neck and face,
She is a damask rose
Entwined by tendrils of waist-length hair.
She gasps, moonstruck at the care
And flawless delicacy of the vignette,
The frontispiece of a book she hasn’t read yet:
Poetry that will melt her with metaphors,
Set alight a brightly burning torch,
Let loose a landslide of emotions,
With its minced words and promises of devotion
From a gentleman she meets twice a week,
Who makes her stays and corsets creak.
Forbidden love makes her reach into her pocket
Where she keeps a sachet and locket,
Smelling salts and laudanum to calm her,
Keep at bay her womanly hysteria.
© Kim M. Russell, 2016
Image found on Pinterest