Now an old woman of some means
Who'd once been a beauty queen
She could afford a gardener
And a secretary/house cleaner
So her students could come and sit
In a quiet spotless room
Where she would show them pictures
Of children at different ages
Some with marble faces
And still-fresh smiles
And paintings of a child turning
From his mother's right
Shoulder to her left squirming
To get a better look at you
There in her candlelight
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