Anger’s Cotillion

A Ballad

The maddest you’ve ever been,
your little face scarlet red
when we made you do cotillion,
you hated the dancing

and wearing those stiff dresses
and talking to the boys
and exchanging nos with yesses
so that your ands piled high.

Your anger brings me joy right now,
I hope that this is fair,
using your blush brightens my crown
and you’re not here to feel it.
 
God in his wisdom gave me this 
gift of your absence;
raging inferno indeed,
dancing music oh so sweet.