John Singer Sargent, Resting (1875)
Resting, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Smell of hay is sweet, your nose it tickles.
Rest your body, so intoxicating,
Just within mere moments, your mind it lulls.
To a strange land to find a love missing.
Sound of a galloping horse fills her ears.
Still as a stone she doesn’t open her eyes.
Then the sudden silence increased her fears.
Boots crushing glass she could feel her demise.
Heavy deep breathing, how horrid she feels,
A heavy weight was next between her breasts.
She is now afraid of what next he steals,
Vowing that she won’t be one of his quests.
Cool water on her brow was disarming,
Opening her eyes she meets Prince Charming.