Sonnet LIII: Mona Lisa's Eyes
© 5-15-24, Olan L. Smith
Death stands inside the door, her face dismayed,
And awed. She does project her deepest blame.
An elder creeps along the hall, wrinkled and grayed;
His grim and gnarly stare will bring her shame.
She opens realms to focus the deadly stare.
Indeed, such watchful ghosts cause painful fright.
The elder's soul still nears and stays aware.
The door does screech, and fear does swing with might;
Her mouth agape within a deathly deed.
He nears her frozen state, unlocks his doors.
Obedient, she places bags where agreed.
A wall of eyes is frightful frozen moors.
"I love your paintings, sir." Those soulless griefs,
The Mona Lisa's eyes clash with her beliefs.
YOU ARE READING
Sonnets Written by Olan L. Smith
PoetryI am moving many of my singly published poems into collections, and in this collection will reside all my sonnets I have written, and will write in the future--I hope you enjoy. Love, peace, and freedom, Olan L. Smith aka Cotton Jones. (Cover credit...
