I met a princess once
Here eyes were heavy
Weighed down by the many
Tears that refused to drop.
Her journey’d made her dress old,
the frightful cold beheld her toes,
Feigning, slipper-less and mourning,
Dances that ached when remembered
Tired, she stopped when I croaked
Stretched her fingers toward me,
Knuckles notched from forgotten rings,
And bowed to speak.
Though her long hair glowed,
And her small hands trembled,
And her lips quivered when she spoke,
Her voice made my heart, enchanted, stop.
Brows sullen, she told a tale
Of old fails, and how she was,
Under the moon, left to sail
Alone across the expanses.
Her tears welled, and flowed,
And she wept when I listened.
Slowly the glow, once hidden
Behind her solemn graces, glistened.
It hurt and healed to find
And ear for the life she’d lost.
Cheered, teary, she bowed again,
And kissed me, and then smiling,
Croaked!
© Denis Adide 2009
It's Complicated 