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That lady looked around with the Mona Lisa smile
and she possessed hips that turned the mile
if it's loving your after
you wont need to shaft her
a pure love is on the turnstyle

That same lady her mask was death
and there was a putrid decay on her rotten teeth
if it's loving your after
you did already shaft her
for didn't you ask her for her secrets to keep

That lady looked around
and gazed on the ground
of bodies cast in alabaster
devoid of the smile
not one in the pile
and their faces the future of disaster

That lady looked around
and caught the sound
of the tail in the mouth
and the secrets in the South
and mortality and gardens of plenty
and the silence announced, of the phrophets of empty

That lady looked around
and the most golden pure sound
coming out of her earthly mound
the cry of the soul that has plenty

Love to all on the Board, even the critics...............Georges

Hi George....As you know, I've already commented on my liking of this poem, but wanted to put my comment in its proper place. I like your use of the lady turning around and what different scenes and images and realizations come into her view as she does. Very gentle action of turning sometimes bringing not such pleasant scenery. Your last stanza is perhaps my favourite?

~Lizzytysh