Redemption of the Lady in the Painting

Her glare-rimmed glazy gaze

Clouded by coloured craze

Blackened by a burning blaze

Dreaming of distant days

When she was not stuck in a painting

Trapped in a brushstroke, watercolours fading

Mindful and wanting and weeping and waiting 

Her life a balance of perspective and shading 

Lonely meant spiteful, seething, bitter

She saw her admirers weaver, wither

Time passed so fast, she stopped counting winters

Her smile dimmed, dust and burning eyes hither

No longer admired, not ask of her, no mention

Not an exception in want of attention

Her space on the wall was eternal detention 

So she hung in silence and planned her redemption

Alice Bellan, February 2022