Geisha

White face, rose cheeks, soft eyes

Beauty that makes birds sing and men melt.

Your face hidden behind your paper umbrella

The cherry blossoms seem to fall in melody with your stride.

I wonder what they whisper to you

I wonder what your story is, Geisha.

I dare not be so bold, or foolish, to ask.

Is your family name long forgotten?

Do you really enjoy that tea,

or has the taste become bitter in your mouth?

Your smile, so radiant,

does it betray your soul?

Do you remember your father,

bleeding in a brutal war,

on some island,

for his home's honour?

Do you remember your mother,

and the flowers she once tended,

and how they withered?

Do you remember how after the flash, 

they sat there with empty eyes?

That cool summer morning,

the breeze lifted the cherry blossoms,

to cover your tears as you left,

until you ran out.

What is your story, Geisha

that hides in your smile?