Streaming Beauty Of Womanhood

Streaming Beauty Of Womanhood short poem


Born a girl, but, I was raised as a boy
In teens I was not girly, a TOMBOY

My walk and talk were not feminine
I used boy’s stuff showing masculine

My nose and ears were not pierced
I hated jwellery .trapped and felt cursed

But,secretely,I was loving myself innerway
Even without adornments,running sway

Someone added my Beauty to crazy love
Melted my EGO made me submissive Dove

He praised me by saying You are Natural
You can’t hide Your Womanhood beautiful

Even without adornment I was so loved
I became Mom, breastfeeding blessed

To oblige my beloved with bounded hooks
With all Sixteen adornments a bridal look

Today being woman, I enjoy motherhood
I am now Streaming Beauty of Womanhood

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 3.50 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

2 Comments on "Streaming Beauty Of Womanhood"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest


The poem is very enticing to a reader. Reading born a girl but I loved to be Tomboy. Sometimes in life we enjoy being masculine especially in young age.
With time the picture has changed, the girl grew and became a mother. Such a blessed state of being. The poem is wonderful and I feel good reading it.

Thank you for sharing.


Shivesh Shivkumar
Shivesh Shivkumar

Thanks for Appreciation



Beauty prose poem

…So. I said: what is beauty? He said: it is the impossible being real, it is the kohl of a string on the forefingers of a guitar player, it is the explosion of astonishment on a beautiful lady’s waist, it

Beauty And The Beast

Beauty And The Beast short poem

I’ll teach you how to read How soft the pages feel underneath your rough fingertips I’ll teach you how to play the violin, How music reveals what’s been hidden for years I’ll teach you how to braid your hair To

Thine Beauty

Thine Beauty short poem

The beauty of thine essence is the one, which never to be compared to ye. As, thou art the miracle of this alluring nature. And thy is the beauty which exhibits thousand works of the superior lord. From whence I


Beauty short poem

In the dust storm a discarded moon sat in my lap. Then internal rhythm crashed. Amorphic I would not find the music of words translated into a kiss. Gold started weeping in my hands. The clouds will rest after committing

The Beauty Fades When I Am Not A Keats

The Beauty Fades When I Am Not A Keats short poem

The bygone art, a dead shrine; Thou not dead, thou live… shall live By art of carve that plays on and will it play Forever, timeless, in century’s lap The beauty, thou struck me a year back: So calm, so