Portrait of a Woman
He smiles, as he lays his brushes down,
blocks the canvas with his bulk.
I move quickly, almost pushing him aside.
I am her mother, I have the right.
A real beauty looks back at me.
There is some aspect of my daughter,
and, yet, it is not her –
a certain look when, thinking herself alone,
she smiles as if at some secret –
her eyes large with thoughts too great to tell.
Cleverly, he has made that look the whole story.
He has painted a face far from ordinary.
The portrait is beautiful - features delicate as air.
It will be well received, but so much is untold.
My daughter is big and gauche –
never sure when to speak, where to put her feet.
She will not be able to ask her husband’s pleasure,
or to know how he judges her-
I am so afraid that he who cannot be refused,
must not be disappointed, will do her harm
when he sees how she compares
with such a beautiful illusion.
Dorothy Allan: "I have been writing poetry since 1998. I was regularly published in a magazine called Neverburypoetry based in Bury, Lancashire. Sadly, it has now folded. I enjoy writing poems on a variety of subjects, but mainly about the peculiarities of other people."
The Ekphrastic Review
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