To the Ball

Her face scrubbed free of grime,
she has opened the walnut,
plucked the gossamer sun-gown.
She's ready to join the dance —
circumspectly, but with style:
in her diaphanous dress,
with black mask, crystal shoes
sparkling with diamantés.
The musicians' fingers
and breath shape brighter notes
when she appears. The king
will dance only with her —
but finds, as midnight strikes,
he clasps a taunting phantom.