Like a Picart woman...

Seen you
As a woman in white
Sitting quiet
Perhaps a springy light
Upon your shoulders
Gleaming of a light
And a book in hand
At a verandah
In flowing white
Your skirt
And left shoulder strap
As if you
Submerged in your blessed
With a book
Of a kite,
Your eyes glued
To writes...

And the light
Lit up your face
As if you in the book
The words which tended
Softest glow
Upon your brows...

As if Picart
There painted you fair
Caught in heavenly lair...
An italian sonata like...

Seen you
There on the stone slab
Sitting quiet
Under the springy light,

And near you,
Up close
By your feet bare
Seen how roses bloomed


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