Like La fornarina,

Like a bakeress
As True
A Margherita,
With an arm band
Thin leathery brown light traced,
Rapheal Urbinas where boldly as a name pressed,
Sitting quiet
With eyes drenched in love
Like a perfected form of art,
Behind her
A myrtle bush
As if Venus,
Found Her
As oily shine,
Holding on to her poem divine,
By eyes visibly bright
Like spreading light,
Found Her
At Palazzo Barberini,
Like la fornarina
By Love so drenched, soft...
As her soul there in eyes emerged...

(Note:~on an oil on wood painting, done by Raphael, in and around 1520...)


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