Trailing after her
A short loose dress
A colourful butterfly
Nothing the less.
She smiles sweetly
But a temptress she is not
Luring no one, not seductive
Though men for her have fought.
Most certainly she would perish
If she were left alone
Out on the streets
Without a chaperone.
Of the outside world
Nothing does she know
For a stroll in the park
Is the only place she'd go.
Protected and loved
Never ever abused
Simply sitting in the parlour
Waiting for her parents' cues.
A tinkling little glass
The most she's ever had
When she does taste more
She will blame her lad.
So once more
A short loose dress
A beautiful butterfly
Nothing the less.
(Editorial commentary: Congratulations, Anna! This is a poem is skillfully crafted. I like each verse, especially your ending where you go back to the beginning. You went full circle. May you write many more poems, and please encourage your friends to visit this site.)
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