FOUNTAIN LADY

Today, I decided to post a poem a little bit on the lighter side. Perhaps you have met a lady like this. I hope you enjoy it and look at it through the eyes of the creator. How is your image doing today?

FOUNTAIN LADY

She was standing by the fountain,
And had a special glow.
She seemed like the kind of lady,
I’d like to get to know.

I sauntered over close to her,
Her gown was draped real tight.
The body underneath was slim,
Oh, what a lovely sight.

I tried real hard to talk with her,
But got no clear response.
She seemed to just ignore my words,
I held her in ensconce.

And though I lingered there with her,
She stayed cold and aloof.
Her eyes seemed to stare right past me,
Looked up at yonder roof.

I tried to gently hold her hand,
But it remained real still.
It seemed like it was very cold,
I thought she might be ill.

I tried to snuggle close to her,
She seemed to be quite shy.
Perhaps I was not the right type,
Was there another guy?

I turned to her with puckered lips,
But hers were taught and tight.
I could tell by her expression,
A kiss was not all right.

It was clear from the beginning,
Her heart was cold as stone.
No matter how my heart might yearn,
She wants to be alone.

I turned and looked by morning’s light,
And what did I behold?
She was just a marble statue,
Standing out in the cold.

My love for her will not abate,
The story must be told.
In the sculptor’s creative mind,
Her beauty doth unfold.

He sees her not as marble slab,
Her beauty lies within.
He chisels with his skillful hands,
His masterpiece begins.

Now when I see her in the park,
Her beauty I embrace.
And when I look into her eyes,
I see the sculptor’s face.

Friend when you look into my eyes,
I hope that you will see,
A picture of the sculptor’s face,
Who has created me.

Don E. Cunningham, P.O.P. ©6/4/09 305