In morning light
Fiercely climbing higher
Her hair ignites
As if caught fire
Fading sun less brazen
Soft dusk graying shadow
Turns blazing red to silken raven
Noticed in this place their space
Only she and burning candles glow
The Bishop thought
The Cathedrals ceiling
To be quite high
One false move a slip
Queasy feeling
She could surely would
Meet her demise
He shouted upward
To the rafters
You blazing haired
Raven haired artist
Who laughs at fear
Tell me what is the compensation
You are after
Dear Bishop, down below
I've requested for this
Skillful challenge not a fortune
But a mere six hundred
Thousand dollars
No less am I prepared to go
Artist have you children
Yes Bishop most proud and willing
Three daughters two sons
They're on their own
My youngest lad is all I have
While I'm here he takes care
Of all the chores at home
Artist I'm rather surprised by that
Your broods been born and raised
Oh St. Peter we need to chat
This poor woman is being underpaid
Time passed four years plus
As he watched her take
Twelve hundred thousand steps
On each and every blessed truss
Monsignor soon I'll be in my grave
Take this satchel it's what I've saved
See to it she receives a doubled wage
For this magnificent artist
With her silvery hair
After all her beauty given
What's fair is fair