She arrived in her crimson red flowing silk
Of dreams weaved through her tender years.
Her hopes gleamed through her golden assets
Of years of expectations and yearnings
Of her family.
Her eyes moist,
A big wave of ceremony
To wash her ashore across
Her sea, of a small world
With little toys to her high heels,
Remnants of dried petals beneath every page,
Mad scribbling over the walls, fading,
Her frilled frock to her ornamented shawl
Her father gifted on birthdays.
A small dairy and those large books
Her mother put on her pink table
On every occasion over past years,
At her blushed face.
Evening sun’s reddish blush of fantasies,
Morning’s blush of hopes, on her cheeks glowing.
Her eyes glowing with all nightly stars
She treasured in her bosom on lonely nights.
She arrived in crimson red flowing silk;
Blushed red, groomed fairy,
Her eyes dancing, longing
Searching her realm …