To be or not to be?( yet another study of prose)

by

I was walking down the lake,
I saw her,
She was clad in a blue jumpsuit,
I asked her,
“Pray tell me, what is the occasion”
She then replied in the most innocuous way,
“That I know not, for it is a fantasy,”
“a fantasy of players, doing their own things”
“eating fresh sea-produce, pickled sea cucumbers”
“bizzarrely attempting, the inconceivable”
“being totally incongruous to society”
I pondered her,
I pondered her answer,
I knew not of what she spoke,
absolutely random,
and totally on the contrary,
quite amusing,
for her voice was mellifluous,
and sweet to the ears that belied her face,
and had a certain ethereal aura to it,
consciously, I had to pry my thoughts,
away from her lovely eyes, her lovely lips,
and her lovely nape of her neck,
exposed by the lovely tied-up hair of hers,
to the pressing matter of her appearance,
so I ask her again,
“pray tell me, sweetness,”
“what is thine dress?”
she retorted this time,
“I know it to be of old,”
“To be off the days past,”
“when men were chivalrous and”
“women bountiful”
I ask myself, if pressing on were worth it?
To be or not to be?

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