Ladies

Cecilia

The casual observer sees
The merry laughter in her eyes;
This is her gift, and freely given,
Though not for sale or barter driven;
One may accept, but cannot steal
This offering, this treasured prize.
I counsel honesty, dear sir,
If you would pay address to her.
The man she calls her friend may glimpse
The unstained beauty of her heart;
He may be near enough to share
Some secret jest, or hope, or care.
He finds, beneath her impish grin,
Her depth of intellect, her art;
So sure, so wise – He'd like to know
(But never will) what made her so.
Her soul is known to very few;
She cannot freely talk of pain.
Each day is but a pause between
What's past and what is yet unseen.
She'll not let yesterday demand
She never give her heart again.
Two things she needs, all else above;
Security, and gentle love.

Bonnie

A kitten, soft and playful, sad and dreaming,
Afraid of pain, yet such an easy prey;
A moment coy, the very next at play,
And still a moment later slyly scheming.
A graceless cub, by lack of grace amused;
A silent tigress, elegant and sleek;
A paradox, at once so brave, so meek,
So certain, so assured, and yet bemused.
The injuries, the wounds of life have blessed her
With gentleness that understanding brings;
A solemn turn of nature oft expressed her
As cool, aloof, but yet her spirit sings.
Though love for whom she lives has now caressed her,
Betimes she dreams of castles, and of kings.