Cinderella's Heir

I lift them from their pedestal

Tiny graceful glass-blown slippers

Oldest heirloom of the castle

Mine; the heiress of the cinders

Is magic left from their cobbler?

How they sparkle without respite!

Is that how fairy dust lingers?

Or is it scintillating light?

Music floats from the ball tonight

My chance for love, if I take it

An ember of hope; frail and slight

On these delicate glass baubles lit

So I’m wearing glass slippers to the ball

Perhaps my dreams won’t shatter after all

Written for dVerse