The Mona Lisa
I saw this darling little chick,
she looked a swinging geezer.
I thought I’d move to get in quick.
Her name was Mona Lisa.
I thought she had a perfect face,
a most bewitching smile.
She swayed with such amazing grace.
Oh my! What lovely style.
“Hello my darling! By the way,
I do a bit of sketching.
So, will you come and sit one day,
I’m sure you’d look quite fetching?”
She stopped my way, oh so demure,
and sat with soft crossed hands.
And as I drew (with thoughts impure)
I made my naughty plans!
“I’ve got this cosy little house
at Amboise, on the Loire;
when painting’s done, perhaps we’ll browse,
then mingle by the fire?”
A true disaster, what a frump
and what a sad old maid!
No way was there to make her jump,
no jolly games were played!
She criticised my little house,
she cursed my blazing fire.
She couldn’t speak without a grouse.
She curdled my desire.
In time, I took my work of art
and, with this neat manoeuvre,
it didn’t really break my heart
to plonk her in the Louvre!
And there she sits for all to see,
this awful groaning teaser.
I think it’s very clear why she
is called the Mona Lisa!
For Heather's 'Fine Art' Competition - Mona Lisa (Gioconda) by Leonardo da Vinci, hanging in the Musee du Louvre Paris.