Woman in an Armchair, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Woman in an ArmchairWoman in an Armchair, Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1874)

Woman in an Armchair

Emerald eyes darting from the armchair
With strong resolute not to give an inch
Obvious hers not a casual stare
Holding her steady refusing to flinch

Arms stiffly crossed as if they were sabers
Head cocked showing her pistol is loaded
Ready to attack like barroom brawlers
Flowery words she hears makes her acrid

Might try to forgive if were words of truth
But what she fears is more duplicity
She does not need be the world’s greatest sleuth
To grasp the result of this travesty

A woman can always trust her own nose
Scent of another on her lover’s clothes