The Most Beautiful Woman on Earth

I saw an old lady at the coffee shop,

Her fingers like a canary’s- frail.

The white hair on her head- a mop,

And her eyes so ghastly pale.

Her lips were cracked like sunken ships,

Like treasure chests under the sea.

She licked them wet and took some sips

Of her scorching hot grey tea.

Her fine trimmed nails tapped on the stool,

She had a ring on her left hand.

She waited for her drink to cool,

Without sugar ‘cause she liked it bland.

Then she looked at me and blinked,

I looked back at her and glared.

Her marble blue eyes were so distinct,

To which no other can be compared.

She did something so splendid,

I cannot put it in the form of rhyme.

Her dead lips became extended,

Showing teeth engrossed in grime.

The smile was a plague, a flame,

I had no choice but to smile brighter.

The peachy glow of her old frame,

Chiseled away becoming lighter.

‘Tis the story of the day I met,

The most beautiful woman on earth.

It is her smile that I shan’t forget,

She reminded me what beauty is worth.

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Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

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