The Lady Smiles
When people play games of chance
With cards or wheel or rolling dice,
There she moves as the bets are placed,
A silent shadow as the people chatter.
At every game of chance she waits
Her presence still as excitement mounts,
As the tension grows to breaking point
And all eyes are riveted on that final card
On that slowing wheel or that rolling dice.
That's when that fickle lady smiles,
A smile that shows a moments whim
And the winner explodes with delight
Convinced he's the greatest thing.
But it's that elusive lady who decides
Who profits when she deigns to smile
poem by Paul Anthony
Added by Poetry Lover
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