The Portrait
Little Elsie found the painting,
Hanging in a darkened room,
Curtains pulled around it, hidden,
Left in darkness to its doom.
Brushing off the dust and cobwebs,
Elsie's eyes grew wide and round.
What a face looked out at Elsie.
Such a beauty had she found!
Hair like gold and eyes like sapphires,
With red lips the lady smiled.
Elsie stared, and Elise wondered,
Took the painting - brazen child!
'Please,' said Elsie, 'who's this lady?'
Stopping everyone she met.
Only one would answer her, with,
'Let ghosts rest, child - there's a pet!'
Elsie raged at this old lady,
Forehead creasing, cheeks aglow,
Took the painting to her bedroom,
Hung it, and admired it so.
Then that night, and many after,
Elsie gazed upon her prize.
Learned to set her hair in ringlets,
Wishing for those sapphire eyes.
Elsie soon outgrew her dresses,
Asked that new ones should be red.
Soon she turned to rouge and lipstick,
Painting well her pretty head.
Taller, lovelier grew Elsie,
Now that picture, out of frame,
Practising to get the smile right,
Brown eyes sparkling just the same.
'Brown,' said Elsie, sighing deeply,
Looking at her idol's face.
'What to do? There's no help for it.'
Elsie's eyes were her disgrace.
People saw her, looked and pointed,
'Kathy's back - well I declare!'
Shook their heads, and said with feeling,
'Wicked girl as she was fair.'
Elsie grew yet more each morning,
Came of age and met a boy,
Took him as her lover, then she
Tired of him as of a toy.
Several men young Elsie captured,
Several hearts did Elsie break.
Then she met a man of standing.
What a husband he would make!
Someone said, 'Did I not tell you?
'Let ghosts lie, you dreadful girl!
'Do you wish to be like Kathy,
'Wicked bride of that poor earl?'
Elsie did not wait to hear it,
Married into love and wealth,
Love of money, not her husband,
Youthful, strong and in good health.
One day Elsie rose up early,
Went downstairs and found his cup,
From her pocket took a bottle,
Pulled the cork - and then looked up.
There a mirror hung, accusing;
Elsie saw the portrait there.
She was Kathy, evil Kathy!
Scarlet dress and golden hair.
And her eyes, they now shone sapphire!
Elsie screamed; the vial was dropped.
Ran upstairs and grabbed the scissors,
Red dress shredded; tresses cropped.
Elsie washed her face of makeup,
Found a mirror, looked again.
She was guilty, pale and frightened,
Face made up in fear and pain.
Soon her husband was beside her,
Asking what upset her so.
Elsie cried, 'I nearly killed you!'
Shaking, sobbing, 'I must go.'
Go she did, but not forever;
Soon came knocking at his door.
Elsie said, 'Can you forgive me?'
'Love!' he said, and said no more.
© A.R. Collins, 2011
Hanging in a darkened room,
Curtains pulled around it, hidden,
Left in darkness to its doom.
Brushing off the dust and cobwebs,
Elsie's eyes grew wide and round.
What a face looked out at Elsie.
Such a beauty had she found!
Hair like gold and eyes like sapphires,
With red lips the lady smiled.
Elsie stared, and Elise wondered,
Took the painting - brazen child!
'Please,' said Elsie, 'who's this lady?'
Stopping everyone she met.
Only one would answer her, with,
'Let ghosts rest, child - there's a pet!'
Elsie raged at this old lady,
Forehead creasing, cheeks aglow,
Took the painting to her bedroom,
Hung it, and admired it so.
Then that night, and many after,
Elsie gazed upon her prize.
Learned to set her hair in ringlets,
Wishing for those sapphire eyes.
Elsie soon outgrew her dresses,
Asked that new ones should be red.
Soon she turned to rouge and lipstick,
Painting well her pretty head.
Taller, lovelier grew Elsie,
Now that picture, out of frame,
Practising to get the smile right,
Brown eyes sparkling just the same.
'Brown,' said Elsie, sighing deeply,
Looking at her idol's face.
'What to do? There's no help for it.'
Elsie's eyes were her disgrace.
People saw her, looked and pointed,
'Kathy's back - well I declare!'
Shook their heads, and said with feeling,
'Wicked girl as she was fair.'
Elsie grew yet more each morning,
Came of age and met a boy,
Took him as her lover, then she
Tired of him as of a toy.
Several men young Elsie captured,
Several hearts did Elsie break.
Then she met a man of standing.
What a husband he would make!
Someone said, 'Did I not tell you?
'Let ghosts lie, you dreadful girl!
'Do you wish to be like Kathy,
'Wicked bride of that poor earl?'
Elsie did not wait to hear it,
Married into love and wealth,
Love of money, not her husband,
Youthful, strong and in good health.
One day Elsie rose up early,
Went downstairs and found his cup,
From her pocket took a bottle,
Pulled the cork - and then looked up.
There a mirror hung, accusing;
Elsie saw the portrait there.
She was Kathy, evil Kathy!
Scarlet dress and golden hair.
And her eyes, they now shone sapphire!
Elsie screamed; the vial was dropped.
Ran upstairs and grabbed the scissors,
Red dress shredded; tresses cropped.
Elsie washed her face of makeup,
Found a mirror, looked again.
She was guilty, pale and frightened,
Face made up in fear and pain.
Soon her husband was beside her,
Asking what upset her so.
Elsie cried, 'I nearly killed you!'
Shaking, sobbing, 'I must go.'
Go she did, but not forever;
Soon came knocking at his door.
Elsie said, 'Can you forgive me?'
'Love!' he said, and said no more.
© A.R. Collins, 2011
