Woman
Wednesday, July 24, 2013 @ 1:55 PM
Scorned as but a woman but my charms have humbled kings,
Taken sons from family hearth and when the nation sings,
It sings of Motherland and love, from womb to tomb to Him above,
The trials and ways of womanhood will still the nation’s heart.
Behind the throne she stands supreme; no queen shall better be,
Of sweetheart with bold lover who weeps far out to sea.
The siren of the swirling skirt, whose voice beguiles to please,
Makes equal king and peasant, brings nations to their knees.
And I should have such woman, as fine as those who bled
The hearts of better others with sad words kindly said,
Then I shall love my woman as I would love oneself,
The throne or cottage garden, one‘s woman is one‘s wealth.
Michael (Walsh)
23.07.13
quite_write@yahoo.co.uk