When I was a windy boy and a bit
And the black spit of the chapel fold,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of women),
I tiptoed shy in the gooseberry wood,
The rude owl cried like a tell-tale tit,
I skipped in a blush as the big girls rolled
Nine-pin down on donkey's common,
And on seesaw sunday nights I wooed
Whoever I would with my wicked eyes,
The whole of the moon I could love and leave
I prefer red chile over my eggs
and potatoes for breakfast.
Red chile ristras decorate my door,
dry on my roof, and hang from eaves.
They lend open-air vegetable stands
historical grandeur, and gently swing
with an air of festive welcome.
I can hear them talking in the wind,
haggard, yellowing, crisp, rasping
tongues of old men, licking the breeze.
(A heart felt tribute to all women )
I am despair - I am heartache - I am the one that feels the sorrow - I am the comfort that ease the pain.
I am the shelter from the storm- I am the refuge found in a fortress filled with faith, hope and charity - I am peace in a world where there is turmoil - I am trust when others have none - I am love for the unlovable - I am a sanctuary for all. I am Woman.
Iam the one that conceives and protect the young - I am the warmth that covers the babe - I am the milk that nourishes the infant child - I am the sweet taste of the honey from the bee...
I am the birthright of God and Love - Iam the incubator for the immaculate conception - I am the womb that delivered thy forefather Abraham - Iam the breast he laid upon.
I am the burst of existence that unfolds the freshness of the air and the beauty of universe everywhere. I am the product of all four (4) seasons - I am the endless parade of the beauty of nature - I am the splendor that multiply each flower with its unique size, shape, fragrance and radiant color.
I am the essence that beholds more than the apparent eye can see - I am the look at the miracle of birth - I am the cover -up for many tribulations to come- I am a vision beyond the apparent glance - I am deep - I am within. I am Woman.
I am the transformation of rebirth - I am born again - I am the out burst of the soul set free.
I give thanks, praise and honor to God - I toil faithfully for my heavenly reward.
I am a virtuous woman- I hold in my hand the lighted torch - My crown on my head extended high - I am the Goddess of Liberty and Justice - I am royalty paving the way for others to follow - I am "Queen" of the land of freedom and opportunity on the solid rock - I stand. I am Woman.
He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.
About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light blue trees,
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim,-
A feather table: reckless gratitude.
It is that-there that means best.
White the green grinding trimming thing!
The disgrace, like stripes.
More selection, slighter intention.
Rosewood stationing is use journey: curious dusty empty length.
Winged cake: the cake, the plan that neglects to make color certainly.
Time long could winter: elegant consequences monstrous.
Daisy Mae is walking by the scented jade meadow,
of warm butterscotch days and mulberry sundown,
And in the green trees, lingers a murder of crows,
Lying in wait for raven night, when luster abounds!
Vast skies are teal, and a whisper's on the breeze.
She is lost in the moment, as the sunshine pours,
And scarlet and purple birds sing in different keys,
As meadow and moor, thrum in vibrant discourse.
Abstract mystery lady, on the burgundy museum wall,
Eyes in deep shadows, in her green dress at the ball,
Sitting lost in thought, of what no one will ever know,
As the moonlight mingles with her hair at the window.
Abstract stylish lady, her face a vague blend of colors,
No longer with the crowd, now apart from the others,
In a room of wild, color swirls and vague bright lights,
Both lady and night inscrutable, backlit by moonlight.
Sometime we take our love forgranted
But believe me, I have always cared.
A small fight is not the end of our relation,
It is pious, it needs some consideration.
One day I am wrong and other day you may be,
You are my shadow, my girl,
For me you are like a string of pearl.
Your twinkling eyes brighten my day,
Your bubbly persona will always stay.
Fond of your love and care,
Accept the love of your educated wife,
Money can’t be the solution of your strife.
Being gentle is enough for you,
Respect her emotion by being loyal and true.
If dowry is the condition of your marriage,