Statuesque Poem by Amy Carr
Statuesque
She waits for him to come,
patiently staring at the door
taking care never to move,
to remain as a statue
so that upon his entrance
he may see her perfect smile
and the lovely draping
of her dress in a pool
on the floor before the chair.
And silently the cat passes,
wondering at the madness
of her statuesque mistress,
waiting alone,
counting the moments
until her lover comes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 3:37:05 AM # 1.0.0.1119
