Has a pensive look, which makes me think
Her train of thought has been disturbed
She's quizzical, a mite perturbed ...
There are toys upon the polished floor
Which she has chosen to ignore
Isabella faces camera lens
Sad or happy? That depends...
Mirrors of her soul perhaps?
Her thoughts lie buried, under wraps
Inscrutable just like the sphinx
She's plotting her next move, wee minx!
We've all been there, but we forget
How logic in our brains is set
We observe and learn before we speak
What progress has she made this week?
Our blue-eyed blondie gives a stare
Wise before her time, it's clear
Though no sound issues from her lips
Her gaze would launch a thousand ships!
(c) Poet in the woods 2019
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