Her smile as warm
as a summer’s day,
fresh and lovely as
the month of May

Her eyes truly speak
to your very soul
yet her lips, though they smile sweetly,
leave the story untold

And as she sat for her artist’s hand,
I wonder what she was thinking then?
Did she even want to be there, looking for all the world as if she didn’t even have a care…
Were they pure thoughts, merriment,
candor, even sin?

Oh, Mona Lisa, sweet Mona Lisa,
the world knows you
and when we see that “little smile”
it makes us want to smile too