23 November 2012
A picture of purest perfection The mirror did frame Fine antique lace, and soft ivory silk She would never be the same
Midnight blue eyes upon an oval face Hair aglow with golden rays A vision of bridal beauty This should be her happiest day
Rose bud lips, tell a different story Reflected in the tired vintage glass For they whisper the name of her lover A boy from a different class
The family name was more important Than their daughters one true love Dishonour would be a humiliation Shroud the stain with a satin glove
They arranged for his removal Service in another household But she knew she would never see him again In the army he did enrol
She carefully placed the honeysuckle garland Upon her heartbroken head Stared at her reflection in the mirror But the eyes gazing back were dead
At two o clock she would be married To a man of her parents choice Arranged from the day she was born No longer would she have a voice
She gazed again at the mirror A solitary tear fell from her eye There would only be one way out of this match It was her time to say goodbye
There was a knock at the door, her mother, the Lady Annabelle "Are you ready now my dear?" She opened the window, inhaled the summer air She no longer felt trapped or fear
With one small move, she took a step The summer breeze on her face It only took another small step To ensure the family's disgrace
A picture of purest perfection On the ground she did lay Antique lace stained crimson with love On this her wedding day.
Match Made In Heaven • Opuss № I