Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Ravings of a Rabid Werewolf - Poetry by Wolf - 17. Night at the Ball
Nervousness fills me as our carriage rides along,
Not sure what awaits us at the other end.
Will this be a fairytale come true,
Or the unfolding of a grisly horror story?
As we arrive at the palace for the night,
I feel the carriage pull to a stop before the grand doors.
In proper fashion, the driver stands at attention,
As our group exits and bids him good night.
I take the hand of my fellow prince,
And look up into your adoring eyes.
A flutter in my chest pushes away any doubt,
As I see nothing but happiness filling your eyes.
*****
My eyes are filled with pride at the sight standing before me,
As you adjust my tie one last time with a smile and light kiss.
Each medal you wear hangs in perfect order on your chest;
The moonlight gleaming off each one like twinkling stars.
My prince in his Dress Blues is a sight to behold;
Standing proud in the uniform of a United States Marine.
My tuxedo pales in comparison as we stand side by side,
Yet there is no place on earth I’d rather be.
With hands clasp tight, we enter the Marine Corps Ball,
As eyes turn towards us from all over the grand ballroom.
This night it is you that tries to calms my nerves,
While you introduce your boyfriend to your entire command.
Nary is a negative word is heard as we dance arm in arm;
Receiving many approving nods from all around.
The few that disapprove keep quiet and brood
Since our acceptance is overwhelming.
*****
At the stroke of twelve I look around,
Like Cinderella thinking that I should run;
Yet nothing changes and my tux remains,
And there is not even a glass slipper to be left behind.
As the night wears on I notice your hand,
And how it occasionally moves up towards your neck.
My smile grows more, if that’s even possible,
As our joined hands rest over your hidden collar.
One final dance with my handsome Marine,
And we decide it’s time to take our leave.
We bid all farewell as we go hand in hand;
It’s been a most glorious night at the Marine Corps Ball.
- 8
- 7
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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