The lady in a portrait


The portrait steady on the wall
Possessing the likeness of my Grandmother
Gazed at me when I would crawl
And is still gazing me wearing a necklace of flower

In the gradient world of black and white
Living an eternal pleasing life
Observing me constantly from a height
And I would glance at her as I arrive.

My presence makes her joyful
But she can't really reveal it
Only because she has to obey God's rule
And it reminds her that she is the lady in a portrait.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem