A MOMENT OF MAGIC (Satis Shroff) She had short, golden hair Tied neatly behind With a blue satin-scarf. Yet I saw her Wearing a diadem, A flowing satin gown, Like a princess. A meek, submissive smile A movement of her fair hair Akin to a Bolshoi ballerina In moments of embarrassment and coyness. Her blue Alemannic eyes, Sweet and honest, Knew no intrigue, Neither treachery Nor rebellion. ‘I was brought up to obey,’ she whispered. Pure bliss and love sublime, A book you could read. Plain and straight, Not in-between the lines. An openness, and yet She's resolute and seeks Perhaps stability Or security? A neglected childhood With pain and punishment. A legacy of the Black Forest Nevertheless, she remained Soft and tender, submissive and sincere. Not demanding and aggressive Ever alert and considerate. Murmurs and sighs filled the air. Love became stormy and frantic. Sweat and aphrodisiac mingl
