Poem: "Ribbons for Her Beard"

This poem came out of the January 2013 Muse Fusion.  It is posted as the freebie for that session.  It was inspired by a poem and some stories from wyld_dandelyon about her characters Dini and Lalya.  Also, the title is correct and not a typo: Lalya has a male body but has recently been relicensed as female for the purpose of marrying Dini.

This poem has not yet been through the process of character permission or Canon Board approval
Character use approved b wyld_dandelyon.
This poem has been submitted to the Canon Board but not yet approved.

"Do you want to stop for lunch yet,
or keep shopping for a little while longer?"
Dini asked Lalya as they strolled down the sidewalk,
only to realize abruptly that Lalya was no longer there.

Dini whirled around, scanning the unfamiliar street
for his new wife.  He'd be devastated
if Lalya got lost on their nuptial vacation.

Lalya had plastered herself against a store window
not far back along the sidewalk.
Dini heaved a sigh of relief.

"What has you so captivated?" he asked.
"Look!  Look!" Lalya exclaimed,
pointing at the sign.
The New Woman's Boutique,
read the elegant scrolling letters.
"It caters to newly licensed women!
Maybe they'll have things that will fit me.
Or advice.  Or books of advice!"

Dini let Lalya tow him into the store,
mentally reassigning lunch to a muc later stop
and grateful that he wasn't all that hungry yet.

Lalya showed his new license to the shopkeeper,
and the two of them quickly dove into a conversation
about fashion and fabrics and accessories.

Dini let his gaze drift around the store.
Dresses, blouses, and skirts hung on racks.
Shoes rested in a set of cubbyholes
alongside a display of license cases.
Jewelry, ribbons, scarves, and other fripperies
adorned little stands here and there.

Before long, Lalya swept out of a dressing room
clad in an elegant bronze dress
that flattered his broad shoulders,
a golden scarf wrapped around his waist.
It was somehow feminine yet not effeminate.
Lalya looked at him hopefully.

"I like it," Dini said.  "Get that one."
He refrained from mentioning
the expense of shipping purchases
home from such a distant location.
They'd budgeted for the replacement
Lalya's masculine wardrobe;
this could come out of that fund.

"Verified!" Lalya said.
She grinned and disappeared
back into the dressing room.

Dini poked curiously at the nearest display.
"What in the world are these?"
he asked the shopkeeper.

"Those are beard adornments
for women who wear facial hair,"
the shopkeeper explained.
"See, there are ribbons, rings,
beads, these fancy little clasps ..."
She pointed to the different items.

Lalya came out of the dressing room
wearing a splash-dyed dress in shades of green,
with a silver sash draped over the shoulders
and a narrow corset-belt in matching silver
cinched snugly around Lalya's waist.
That was rather hot,  Dini thought.

"What do you think?" Lalya asked,
her voice wavering a little.
"Does it look all right, or is it too overdone?"

"I think it looks absolutely fabulous on you,"
Dini said honestly.  Then in a lower voice he added,
"I think it would look even better on our bedroom floor,
or perhaps flung over a lamp."

Lalya blushed. 
"Oh, you!" she said.

"You haven't picked up much
in the way of new adornments,"
Dini pointed out to her. 
"You've concentrated on clothes.
Here, see what you think of these."
He pointed to the little display.

"Is that ... beard jewelry?"
Lalya asked with a laugh
as she leaned over it.

The shopkeeper stepped up to help.
Lalya's beard was too short
for the more elaborate offerings,
but they soon found a nice set
of emerald silk ribbons fastened with silver clips.

The effect was ...
well, Dini had never seen anything like it
but he heartily approved of the effect.
Like the dress, it was an elegant blend
of masculine and feminine.
A woman could have a beard,
and make it a pretty  beard,
without looking ridiculous in the process.
She could honor the shape of her body
and the choice of her heart together.

Quite some time later,
their growling stomachs called a halt
to the restoration of Lalya's bereft wardrobe.
Dini tottered out of the boutique
buried under a mountain of boxes and bags.

"What do you think?"
Lalya asked, fidgeting with her new shawl.
"Did I overdo it in there?"

"I think," Dini said,
his voice muffled by the load,
"that it is our nuptial vacation, 
so  you're entitled to enjoy yourself ...
and I'm entitled to hire a porter."