John Loving Iii Poet Personification

I Don'T Even Know Her Name

red is the colour of her hair
an unnatural red
taken from a bottle
and red is the colour of her flair
where men stare
and she graciously models

her red is such a lovely thing
it has a ring and even sings
her red has it's own style
unseen for miles not on the dial

beneath the hair
a stern beautiful face
she's of her race
and carries a polished grace

some women look better 
with their glare
forget the smile
that appears just once in a while

she stays just mostly to herself
guarding her wealth
her reverential status

and though she is fixed
with this aberration her sophistication
i give my admiration

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Michelle Mac Donald January 16, 2014 at 3:16 PM Sounds like a model, John. They aren't always smiling but still beautiful and graceful. Thanks for the comment.:) Now I have to get my act together and finish the next part! Your poem flows nicely from the beginning to the end. Keep well, Mikki

Daver Austin January 15, 2014 at 12:45 PM Sounds like Katherine Hepburn to my mind and imagination. Some call a sophisticated woman stuck up and other things, but I adore a sophisticated woman. There are plenty of red necks around. Thanks for reading my stuff. daver