The best of times are serious.

The worst of times are sad.

For on any moment of calm impends the storm of something bad.

Her weary eyes do not disguise the taxing life she’s had.

Yet in her grace she wears a face that only droops a tad. 

 

The Virgin remains obedient.

She never fails or strays.

She finally feels a smile on that holiest of days.

But we resign to keep in mind her solemn downward gaze.

For gloom departs from sinful hearts when love is set ablaze.