[Image from Flickr]
A grandeur old, established, expected
too (not least for a burgundy carpet,
showing in relief stilettos, glitter
and gloss beneath stained lips bubble-touched). Then,
the bell, the hush, the taking of seats. Such
opulence quieting the throng. Darkness.
The curtain rises, the orchestra plays –
fervent hum increasing, strings vibrato.
Light returns. The man looks to his side: she
is even more beautiful in the play
of shadows. How lucky he is to sit
with such a prize beside him, watch ballet,
and then go home to their own dance: embrace
of limbs, music internal – carnal. Yes.
[Copyright © N R Nolan 2015]