Woman in a Blue Sequinned Dress

a poem by NILANJANA HALDAR, India

Blonde Miss in her blue sequinned dress,
Smiles, clearing a facial grimace,
Solitary after torments of a bygone bloke,
Fingers clasped, today, ‘neath another’s cloak

Capes of black, heralding laurels and toils,
Glorifying everyone’s trophies and spoils,
Next to dad, in a quiet street in London,
I saw the tux and the gowns gorgeous and unworn

Craving roses, painting lips, necks sparkly in gold,
He stood her up many London nights, all frozen and cold,
Threatrical dramas of amour rose varied visions of him,
Unaware of many other women he eyed with careless whim.

And then he stepped up, this other lad dead scared to admit,
“No liquor just your beauty, it’s power to upraise a fit,
I have studied, played the game and lived in passion,
Why around you, fright and delight confuses me in this fashion?”

Who would’ve thought while she prayed,
Shedding shame and fear, real guilty and afraid,
Years it took like the maple trees tall down the streets,
Like an Archangel helping young girls from human cheats.

But seeing her, transformed the lad, made him emerge,
Thoughts and crowds that drowned him, began to reforge,
On the exact day of their last exam he said,
“Could I take you on the Dukenight party 3 weeks ahead?”

Tossed in a city, dad, me and my tiny poetic mind,
Them dressed for a convocation night, on asking I find,
Dried maples strum me and dad in rhythms of the wind,
As this story of amour gets lost in other dresses sequinned.

—-By Miss Nilanjana Haldar

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