Went quiet her day, the skies at ease,
a lazy light in summer hues.
She found herself a place to please
whatever she may wish to choose.
A powdered blush defined her cheeks,
her painted lips in satin red.
Her jewelry from the grand boutiques,
behooving how a lady bred.
A lawn to front her vast chateau,
as oft’ before, her chosen place.
Refined and honed, her jade plateau.
perfection should leave not a trace.
A tapered flute, a sparkling wine;
a parasol, a wicker chair,
All dressed in white to pass the time
as would befit her noble flair.
She graced a stroll down to the lake
where hosts of lilies wait in bloom.
A waft of perfume in her wake,
from ‘gai Paris’ one would assume.
She filled her pockets weighed with stones,
into the depths, she slipped away.
From white she sought out greyer tones
in keeping with the end of day.
The summer hues to cool and wane,
the parasol, a vacant chair.
An empty glass, a lipstick stain,
a trace of perfume in the air.