After a long time, I saw her again tonight,
grand-daughter in tow, a pretty child,
fulfilling for the nonce the Shakespearean sonnet
of beauty in progeny made immortal.
Though by the flash of her movements
she still had that flair, voice tones gong-like;
the broadened waist, dignity of bearing,
dampening the brighter oscillations.
I could hardly keep my eyes off her face,
a glance swept back to the stylish hair clip,
the eye in a flash down an elegant neck,
down drawn by the gravity of gender.
Ample material for designer eyes,
to eclipse the thought of being past her best;
even as she strained after the distinction,
withdrawing the profile, promoting the child.
