Woman

It is a man’s world,  

but it is a lady’s man.  

This feminine oozing,  

lavender fragrance  

vanilla sweet,  

delicacy.  

A tree,  

well versed in the tongue of the seven seas. 

A guardian of sacred fantasies  

in awe of her magnificent grace  

he succumbs to his knees  

Woman  

The heir of the silent Almighty,  

Afraid, Oh, might he?  

Immortal in her lane,  

She seeks not to compete.  

Solely to the soulfully blessed,  

highest acquaintance is she complimentary.  

Excellence radiates from her intangible sphere. 

An omen of good fate, 

She is present even when the matter disappears. 

The keeper of all gates,  

She laughs, and there takes place the eulogizing spring air

She listens as the leaves glisten  

when the Sun inspires her black bloom 

to make fearless decisions,  

and her instincts foresee trends 

beyond subtle omissions.  

In the face of fear,  

lies,  

mediocre compromise  

She smites with precision.  

Sitting between the Sun and the Moon 

vast in all motions,  

wisdom whispers that I exist in her womb, 

this emptiness an ocean.