Marche de les Masque

January 5, 2011
By GreenBallerina GOLD, Pelham, Alabama
GreenBallerina GOLD, Pelham, Alabama
11 articles 2 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
"All glory comes from daring to begin. "
Ware, Eugene F.

"Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It is already tomorrow in Australia." ~Charles Schulz

After Mardi Gras, and unwanted breads cling to the sidewalk,
Everyone walks away with their garments, ready to cleanse their purity,
The night lit with a Cheshire Cat Smile moon
A man strolls down the road, streetlights illuminates his mask,
Black ivory pattern, his eyes a glowing blue,
He walks into the shadows as he beckons his people
Women parade down the street, mask rich with—
Peach, Turquoise, Chartreuse, Crimson, Amber, Aqua,
Asparagus, Fuchsia, Carrot, Cream, Dandelion, Salmon, Scarlet,
Indigo, Emerald, Brimstone, Soot, Jade, Chestnut—
Hand in hand with their partner. Dance beneath the street lights,
Silhouettes welcoming their master, the Roi de Masquerade.
Together he waltzes among his peers, calling forth the night’s roundez-voi.
Tonight Roi de Masquerade would choose a bride.

Le Masque de Créatif presents herself to the court,
Her mask lavender and a rich moron, dazzled with a light fancy design,
That trickles down the bridge and her cheeks, pansy purple feathers, bush out to the side,
She dances for the king, her rush of movement gifts the world with the artistic spirit,
Imagination spills from her fingers like wet paint, splashing—

Plum, Rose, Sunflower, Smokey Grey—
Rich colors paint a new world as she bows before her king.

Le Masque de Personnalité presents herself next timidly.
She, shy but lively, graces herself to her court.
Pandora’s Box flung open as the world smelled the burning intensity
Of the emotions ripping from her bronze mask, one side simple,
On the other cheek the design diverged into a rush of black ivory.

Le Masque de Rêve presented herself with an effortless gleam.
The world slept in heavenly dreams as she waltzed for them.
People would wake with new ambition to conquer and live,
A lover dreams begins as a man escorted her in a pas du deux.
A million dreams tickled her fingertips floating to the sky,
Glitter in the black night.
Her mask printed with Luna’s scar,
But above the crown, the metal twisted in a spiral design,
A dream not forgotten, hovering above your bed like a ghostly shadow.

Le Masque d’Amour flirty curtseyed towards the king,
Blowing a sweet kiss as her partner lifts her upon his broad shoulders.
Her mask, Aphrodite’s creation, huge Scarlet Rose feathers palmed over her face,
The mask simple with a beaded ruby pattern around her tulip eyes.
A passionate affair emerged as she was torn between two lovers,
But the greatest love of all conquers, one of pure friendship.
Together, hand in hand, bow and exit gracefully.

And finally, one of true manners, Le Masque d’Élégance gently nodes her head
With grace and style, she move alongside sophistication, holding her head high,
Around she turns as her mask beams a lovely tiara pattern, crown at the top,
Cupping behind the ears,
Fawn, Hints of Coal Black, and dashes of Tanned marks,
Make the essences of her golden crown.

But once the greetings are done, along come the possible brides,
Each beautifully clothed, and their mask reveals their flaws.
One thinks money could win over Roi de Masquerade,
While another bore her feelings upon her shoulder,
One morphs continuously like a butterfly, but still hidden in her cocoon.
One is born of a prestige family; she was destined for his hand,
Roi de Masquerade danced silently with every mask,
Displeased with their inner beauty.

But into the ballroom, a masked ballerina appears,
Over an hour late, but she catches the tune like fireflies
Like a Cinderella too shy to approach the prince,
But his eyes landed on her.
Music stopped as the masked ballerina blushed,
Apologetic as she dashes for the stairs,
But prince charming catches her before the shoes slips.
Royally he beckons her on the floor, to dance for him.
She timidly bows to the court, a mere human present.
Her quick and precise movement, graceful arms,
An innocent child’s smile—

A swan crown perched upon her head, black feathers fan across

The top, lighted and shaded, black ivory design encircles her eyes—
Roi de Masquerade hypnotized by her beauty, slips some magic from his sleeve,
Flung a little pinch of dust upon her face.
Her mask clung to her skin, forever a part of this mythological world.

The author's comments:
the Title is french for the March of the masks. I thought of the idea after Mardi Gras came and went. It kinda of a fairytale. A prince falls for a peasant. Hope ya'll like.

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