Bedside Love

Plucking away at his guitar,
Hoping that maybe he’d stumble upon a chord
That would kiss her awake
And she would see her prince charming.
And awake, the sleeping beauty did.
Weakly smiling,
Wondering if 500 years had truly passed her by,
To this moment of electrical amplifiers.
And strumming away the introductions of classical pop songs,
Like a Moulin Rouge musical, hoping that maybe
Satine would open her eyes and see beyond
The hairy costume of the beast
And see inside the rose that slowly grows
For her to pick in a secret garden of an unknown time.