Woman

Woman short poem

Uploaded by Benjamin Chiu Uy

allow me this privilege of
seeing you in ,
the unlit room in a chilly night,

alone and guiltless,
as night unmask your face, assumed Venus in the cowl
shawl,
splendor on the door it would admit,

the dream of the ages, for your age,
in our young songs to the stars,

quietly in the whisper of the fallen goddesses,
the eros of ,life ,earth,sincerity,

the wonders of the lost cities,of the assumed cries,
indignant and sweet,

as the core of life assembles, begin its roots and vines, to freedom
spreading at the night moon’s. gaze,

centuries at the awaken sleep,
before you ,the proper host,commenced, invites,

two enamored stranger to this long trip,the dreams,
between the crowning of the dawn and the drawn midnight.
the time for the induced celestial images,

as you unveil, weapons and spells, from the lost world,centuries of the love arts,
on this shelters, altars of anonymity and the start,the coming of its cries,and birth,
bringing the new renewals of more than life itself.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 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

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

Woman

Woman prose poem

That essence Those hands, that body that caresses who breastfeeds us that gives us life starting an eternal struggle who always leaves his teachings Their loves his consolations That essence that multiplies in the sister, in the aunt, in the

Tin Woman

Tin Woman long poem

Of all things sentimental. She came through the door wearing a suit of armor. The door closed behind her with a rattle and tick of swaying arms. With rust around her eyes she longed to be melted down. A drop

The Odyssey Of Hill Woman

The Odyssey Of Hill Woman prose poem

For ages, her life has been A journey of endless strife Most of the times unrecognised Generation after generation Beautiful as a part of nature itself In whose lap she is born and brought up She grows up to attain

I Am A Woman

I Am A Woman short poem

I am a Woman, …born from the ribs of a ‘Man’; I am a Woman, They say…I am Honor of the ‘Clan’. I am Equal of a ‘Man’, Very early this Comparison ‘began’… God made me beautiful…so I can ‘rejoice’…

First And Last Woman

First And Last Woman prose poem

She is the first and last woman; Her hair is one thousand color waterfalls, nature briefed in her two almond eyes, her eyebrows two gardens riding on astonishment whispers, her cheeks two apples rolling down from Paradise always fleeing away