I seek the places where brave women are,
luminous and kind, mocking me playfully,
shelter and haven, these souls, harbour and home,
tall and sturdy trees in whose shade I rest.

I kneel to one such woman, beg for grace.
I fall into the heaven of her eyes
and weave deft sonnets to her majesty,
my pride as plush green grass kissed by her tread.

What happens when a woman wears the crown?
I pledge my loyalty. I bow my head.
I honour her with service and attention.

I plead with her to keep me safe. Instead,
she gives me strength to face life's turbulence,
she blesses me, sends me into the night.