Sadness is part of reality she quips beside the sword.
Monday’s tuesday watched her dance,
It’s then she was adored.
She smiled on Wednesday, the table was dressed.
She wore the sword well – unsheathed.
Red ribbons danced an eloquant rogue of mystifying colours.
A background spectacle of diamonds laying claim to nothing but legs,
slender, perfect legs.
Thursday was her day and she rocked the weak.
Tree’s were still regrowing trying to catch up.
Her tanto blade was calm, an anklet if you please.
Friday she disarmed me.
She did as she pleased.
Sadness is a part of reality and I’m especially pleased.
© G.P Williamson 2017
(I used weak as apose to week intentionally, I think it adds flavour)