A/N: This poem was inspired from the anime Emma: A Victorian Romance which I recently finished watching. It's a story set in the Victorian Era and tells of the forbidden love between a maid and a man of the gentry and their struggle to become a couple. The first season (12 episodes) was very cute, although in the second season (another 12 episodes) I found myself more inclined to like Hans than William, thus why I wrote this. Please enjoy and check out the series if you find yourself intrigued.
That Which Was To Follow
In the back of her mind she always knew
That something just was not right.
And after all they had been through
It all seemed like a pointless fight.
This love was singular
With no other equal
But deep down she knew it would not go far
And there was no way to duel
That which was to follow.
Slowly, sweetly, this new love came
Like a wave; a scented breeze.
How could she have guessed
A love like this?
But before she knew
There was no mistake
This stoic man,
Strangely gentle and always strong,
Had taken her heart in his hands
And now a new love bloomed.
How could she ever forget
Dearest William
Who wished to beset
Two hundred lace handkerchiefs,
And better glasses, to boot?
No, she would never forget
That dear open face
Of the first man she loved
For at the very least
She owed him that.
But now before her
A new life has begun
And though he is no “monsieur”
She is just as undone
For Hans has brought to her
Something William simply could not.
That Which Was To Follow
In the back of her mind she always knew
That something just was not right.
And after all they had been through
It all seemed like a pointless fight.
This love was singular
With no other equal
But deep down she knew it would not go far
And there was no way to duel
That which was to follow.
Slowly, sweetly, this new love came
Like a wave; a scented breeze.
How could she have guessed
A love like this?
But before she knew
There was no mistake
This stoic man,
Strangely gentle and always strong,
Had taken her heart in his hands
And now a new love bloomed.
How could she ever forget
Dearest William
Who wished to beset
Two hundred lace handkerchiefs,
And better glasses, to boot?
No, she would never forget
That dear open face
Of the first man she loved
For at the very least
She owed him that.
But now before her
A new life has begun
And though he is no “monsieur”
She is just as undone
For Hans has brought to her
Something William simply could not.
