Fogotten Princess

The moon on her skin, closed lashes on cheeks,
Mist through her fingers, a smile at her lips.
Bare painted toes brushed the blooms at her feet,
Whispering breeze through her locks to its tips.
She twirled, and she whirled, to a tune of her own,
At a ball of her making, in a dress from her dream.
And the song that she heard from a place far away,
Chimed like crystal rain dew-drops into a stream.

And you saw, and you watched, and your eyes never strayed.
Your future, to hold her, this was your chance.
That princess you’d place at the top of all things,
And you’d never forget how she loved to dance.

The days on her skin, damp lashes brush cheeks,
A cut on her fingers, concern on her lips.
Once painted toes hide in house-slippered feet,
Coffee mug cold, too busy to sip.
She sighs as she chops, and she washes, and folds,
Glances out of the window, and pauses to stare.
Clouds racing, storm brewing, blue fading away,
Imaginary bars lead outside to nowhere.

And you see, and you watch, but your eyes never stop.
Your present, you have her, this is your chance.
That princess you’d place at the top of all things
When was the last time you asked her to dance?

Old age on her skin, thin lashes bat cheeks,
Your rings on her fingers, shared years on her lips.
Worn fragile toes crammed on shuffling feet,
Knees that won’t bend, nagging pain in her hips.
She sinks to her chair, she stares at the fire,
Watches the flames as they leap in the grate.
Says nothing, but watery eyes speak instead
Time now to give her, but time is too late.

And you see, and you watch, and your eyes never stray,
Your past now your present, never once seized the chance.
That princess you swore was the top of all things,
How soon you forgot that she loved to dance.

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