‘Shophia Loron, the majestic,’
To say of you, I am apologetic.
You were born low, as illegitimate.
Your mother made you legitimate.
It is your mother who made you the great.
Her love for you was total, and vital.
Carlo Ponti was, who made you the screen queen.
Older by twenty years, he was mad of you.
He couldn’t coax you to be less than a wife
He had to give up his family as prize.
In Hollywood actor, Cry Grant,
You found your love and warmth
But it is Carlo who got your warmth
You had to yield as a grateful dog.
You never changed husbands like
You never betrayed your husband.
Nor did you sell yourself for wealth and fame.
Your two sons are legitimate,
By which you rank high in estimate.
Your mate is the most fortunate.
You seduced attention all over.
No worthy man could lay hand on you,
The poorest of poor, who grew the richest of rich.
You were not the queen of Rome
But you swayed as the queen of celluloid.
You were honoured with Mrs. World,
For consistency at your five and sixty.
As much you barred men as you lured.
A lover of gratitude and solitude;
A symbol of honesty and majesty.
A blend of beauty, love and culture,
You last by your inner beauty.
You still exist so no scandal is thrown.
01.05.2002, pkad
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