Romanticism

Clicking of cobbled streets
where clink creaking carriages pass,
galloping horses lead their way.
Squeaking wheelbarrows rattle
 in a hustle of street markets.
 Neo-gothic palaces with spires and traceries,
 flourishing décor of patterned red carpets,
 chairs with elaborate golden legs, 
framed portrays of family members
commissioned to known painters,
art collection to add a touch of a connoisseur,
silverwares that requires polishing by servants,
 displays of exquisite marvels from the Grand Tour.

 Ladies in puffy dresses, layers over layers,
 elegant tailor-made dresses for ma’ams,
 admiration for a feel of stain, a colour of a ribbon,
 flowing rims and flowery laces;
Oh, such an intricate embroidery!
 swinging along a waltz.
What a beautiful lady she can be.
 All the talk of romance over tea,
 how to be courted and wooed
; how delightful to be a lady.

 Gentlemen with top hats and canes,
Savile Row tailcoats and waistcoats for Sirs.
 while ladies have their entertainment,
 men ride horses for chivalry,
they hunt for game and for their honour.
They engage themselves in deep conversations
 of politics over pipes and whisky,
 rarely about ladies,
but they know how to taking care of their ladies.
 Always, ladies first; hands of gentlemen to guide ladies,
 to guard them with their lives.

 Gentlemen lift their hats and bow.
Ladies do a courtesy.
 ‘Good day, Miss.’
 ‘Good day, Sir.’