A PORTRAIT
There is a portrait of a young woman seated on a chair,
With a well featured face and short dark wavy hair,
Two sad, dark eyes gazing from an oval shaped face,
Right hand on her knee, left arm draped down in grace.
A fine golden chain hung around her slender neck so well,
Holding a large diamond of many carats you could tell,
She wore a dress of silk of many blended pastel shades,
The antique chair framed her frail body then all else fades.
For those sad eyes showed great fear, the lips showed no smile,
Apprehension? Worry? Pain? And I gazed for quite awhile,
And as she gazed back at me she seemed for love to long,
Though beautiful, the face told she’d never heard a happy song.
She was draped in riches yet no sign of happiness did show
In that portrait, and I felt pity as I looked at her from below,
I wanted to share the love of living with this young rich girl,
The one in the picture with sad eyes and dark hair with a curl.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson July 14, 2003