The Belle of the Ball

En pleine nuit, handing a red wine glass,
Sad, alone, hurt. Oh! That poor half sipped glass,
Appeared altogether, smile on my lips and the Venus,
Milk appeared complexioned, deep sea blue eyes,
Perfectly shaped her curves, coldly I sighed !
Lips, like fresh crimson rouge leaf. Appeared she
And wind fragranced, beautiful and tall,
She was the belle of the ball.

My eyes open, and remained widely open,
Ten beats skipped my heart,
Stopped my breathing not less than a minute,
I was in love and all the time I looked at her,
She whirled hand in hand like a princesses,
I just could look, she gifted fiancé with kisses
Did she love me? With a stealing eye,
She passed a look and smile,
I was intoxicated and the reason,
Not the wine but a couple of eye,
Votre attention s’il vous plaît, was a sudden call,
She was the belle of the ball.

Now time of ceremony, she was getting engaged,
Was she really happy or was being caged?
Hesitatingly, slowly, gave her hand to the king,
And it was locked forever with a diamond ring,
She smiled but she was crying, I am sure,
I saw a droplet, dried in her eyes,
Those were the most beautiful eyes,
Full of fear and full of cries,
I was not courageous enough to see anymore,
Finished red wine glass, then headed to the shore
Years passed, time changed since
I attended the engagement soir,
She is still in heart above all,
That night, she was the belle of the ball