The Best Smile

It was a Portrait
Of six feet height,
Full size Lady Grace,
Minus lips on her face.

With all his skill
The artist failed still,
To give her a smile,
Free from any style.

He scanned every mile,
For that unseen smile,
One lovely to admire,
Forever, world over.

Smiles, smiles every-where,
But not a smile there,
New, true and plain,
His lady should own.

His wife smiled,
His girl smiled,
His servant smiled,
His boss smiled.

The milkmaid smiled,
The cart man smiled,
The beggar smiled,
The neighbour smiled.

The dandy smiled,
The waiter smiled,
The grocer smiled,
The councilor smiled.

He saw an ambitious smile,
Not an aesthetic smile,
And a cunning smile,
Not a winning smile.

He saw a dubious smile,
Not a divine smile,
And a greedy smile,
Not a graceful smile.

He saw a mischievous smile,
Not a magnanimous smile,
And a voluptuous smile,
Not a virtuous smile.

Smiles, with strings, he found,
Wherever he went round,
But not the best one,
The Lady Grace won.

The smile, the best,
He found at last,
From his own child,
Rocking in the cradle.

Now the Lady grace smiled,
Thanks to the child,
The portrait was acclaimed,
The best of its kind.