There is a poem in that photograph;
The verse slyly hidden amongst the rain,
Writ on her luminescent skin, and half-
Concealed in the waves of her tousled mane.
Rhyme bubbles up from enigmatic eyes,
While the hint of a grin creases her cheek;
It spills words in a Mona Lisa guise,
Which says so much, although she does not speak.
Critics will explain away the magic,
With talk of composition and background,
Missing the mystery – the poetic –
Searching for meaning better left unfound.
   I give my pen, weak as it is, to raise
   Up both artist and Muse in highest praise!