What gown will I wear tonight? she mused,
As the early scatter of the fading light settled and
Gray banners fluttered in the twilight air
Festooned over an elegant black and white horizon
What fineries will be fitting against a classic motif?
Will she wear a cape dotted by a million sparkles?
Or gems formed by light years from distant blasts
Made more brilliant by the absence of the moon?
Would she dare wear a tiara of a burning disc with
A backdrop of dying light from flickering candles?
A sturdy rack sagged with the weight of arrayed vanities
Each one hopeful of being blessed by the lady's choice.
Her gaze moved from one brilliant creation to another
Oh the quandary she faces though not only this once
But never apologetic for such an embarrassment of riches