A woman of rhyme without reason
Was Miss Melanie Bleu
She wore their scorn well—
The woman who was taboo.

He'd left her at the altar
With naught but a festering feast;
To another who stays gold
His heart was only leased.

To the tailor she went a-calling
She’d dress fit for a queen
Her love would not see her weep 
He would only see her preen.

She came resplendent in worn white silk
The portrait of a beautiful disgrace
Her love was well and gone, she knew
For hers was a dream unlaced.

The garment was a patchwork of promises, 
Frayed childhood schemes
She was a dream in chiffon
Unraveling at the seams.

Through the gown’s stifling stitches, 
Her true colors vied
Till she tore the wretched thing 
And took it in her stride.

But the tailor took the ill-fitted gown,
And pried apart its strands
A dress that was ruined and raw
The tailor patched with capable hands.

The tailor patched by candlelight, 
His fingers a deft refrain
He took a needle to the tattered lace 
As the sun began to wane.

At last he saw a work well done
And put his eyes to rest
The gown lay finished, waiting
Waiting to be dressed.

Then comes the tenuous dawn,
The darkness laid waste;
The tailor knelt by Melanie’s side,
Their hands interlaced.

‘To my lady, my love, my
Unlikeliest of friends:
I come bearing gifts
By which to make amends.

He brought you a flower, a kiss, 
And a ring to intend
I bring you a poem, a promise, 
And a gown to mend.’

Miss Bleu clutched the gown
In one marred hand
It was more than the costume
Of a lover's brand.

It draped her jagged edges
And rendered her with pride
Finding her torn, the tailor patched
The ruined bride.

Biography: Ever since I was little, I’ve been in love with stories. I spend most of my time either reading or creating, and my creations are often inspired by the stories I read. I don’t like to be tied to one medium in particular, but rather I engage in a variety of artistic expressions, including writing, painting, drawing, and crafting. Stories are how I communicate, and I’m always looking for new mediums to convey the stories that float around in my mind, vying for attention.