Beauty And Rarity
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Tagspoetry
One of my poems. Enjoy!:)
A Lady dressed in green,
Appearing more noble than anyone, even a queen
Once spoke to me with kindness and compassion,
She was graceful in speech, which was plain to see
Yet like the coveted lace she wore,
She found herself never making in beauty or in a good taste in fashion
Who could discern which rarity demanded the most attention?
The lace, or the lady who wore it?
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Rosentine let out an audible snort, unladylike and deliberate. "I'm flattered, Your Grace," she said with a mock bow. "But I am not interested in further igniting that heat between those legs of yours. So please spare me some trouble." What an unwomanly gesture. But she could care less. If that's the means to get herself away from this man like a magnet, she might as well paint herself as mean and unapproachable as she goes. But just as she hoped to successfully distance herself, a strong arm grabbed her forearm. It was surprisingly gentle, but with a man's strength, she felt being pulled back, forcing her to face him. Upon doing so, her slightly trembling eyes met his. Other than his voice, his manly structure, and his cursed dimple, it seemed like his eyes were what made her avoid him. Blue as an ocean, she swore she saw them glistening under the sun. But instead of the usual look he would give her every time, this one looked different. She had never seen the ocean before in her entire life, but his eyes alone made her feel like she touched beautiful waves in a beach paradise. He released her, his gaze dropping to his boots as a low chuckle escaped him. His curls bounced lightly, and his broad shoulders shook with quiet mirth. "Those things you've just said," he stopped midway, finally looking at her in faint bewilderment, "... you never fail to amuse me, Miss Blackburn." God, she hated it. What does this man want from her anyway? But it is expected from a man like him. Jonathan Campbell, the young Duke of Lennox, has a strong reputation for being a ladies' man. Aside from his wealth, farmlands, and financial intellect, his charm among women just distances him from other noblemen. "You never fail to annoy me, too, Your Grace," she retorted. "You're such an untamable woman, aren't you?" He mused back. "Perhaps," she said, "but I don't intend to be tamed by the likes of you." Her lips curved into a frown. "If anything, it's you who'll be tamed."
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