By Barbara Franquet


Geisha, white powdered face,
kimono of silk she wears.
Raven colored hair, with delicate
tortoise shell combs in place.

Tiny feet dance on tatami mat,
artistic rituals to display.
Entrance all with ancient gait,
to live as Geisha her fate.

Subtle smile and exotic eyes,
steady hands pour blossom tea.
No evidence, eyes that cry,
for a new destiny.




Chosen as Geisha for life,
never to be dutiful wife.
Rigorous daily training,
for a life of entertaining.

Geisha sings her woeful song,
of destiny gone wrong.
Her soul yearns to be free,
in heart knowing never to be.