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.
Poetry by Uncle Meridian
Read 56 times
Written on 2023-05-29 at 17:04
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)