The Belle Behind the Curtain

My porcelain belle poses
On the windowsill
Gazing shyly down
To smooth her rustling taffeta
Soft pink with ribbon roses
Lace and veil her daring will
No modest corset gown
Can bind her completely

There's something in her blush
The way her hair falls
In dark scarlet curls
Over her delicate shoulders
That brings a subtle hush
When she peeks around the lace
And sunlight glances pearls
She fingers fondly