Standing in my Father’s study,
I see a portrait of a Woman
Father thinks the portrait is very important
But I don’t know why
The woman is sitting on a stool
She has long, brown hair
That falls over her shoulders
Like a water-fall
She has dark green eyes
That resemble the
Lush, green, bursting forest
She has a lovely nose
Not too long
Not too short
Just perfect
She doesn’t smile in the portrait,
She frowns
I wonder why my Father
Hung the portrait
Of a woman who frowned
On the wall in his study
I wonder why the woman frowned
Maybe she was tired, angry and frustrated
Maybe she didn’t want a portrait done about her
If she smiled, her beauty would be like
Roses among thorns
I wondered who the woman was
I heard my name being called
So I left the study
The image of the woman, who frowned in the portrait,
Was in my memory.
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