2 certificates, 1 of Excellence, and 1 Gold, both honoring women for March is Women’s Month. In some countries, March 21, spring, is Mother’s Day as well, which elevates the celebration. My only regret is that, as we celebrate, other mothers around the world are being raped, tortured, and murdered horrifically.
Poetess, author of poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, that’s available on all eplatforms, including Amazon. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
My poetry book, Perfectly Flawed poetry for change, is available on all eplatforms, including Amazon.com. It was on the finalist list for the Canadian Book Club Awards 2023.
Pastels enrobe her, twilight presses her, As fiery hues caress her face and hands, As she holds a pink rose to her nose, smells Its fragrant aroma, as she turns away for fear
And regret grip her aching heart, As regret, twists her emotions, Rendering her vulnerability flagrant And easily susceptible to sensations
Running deep into a heart full Of compassion, empathy that’s taken Advantage of, for her convictions cull People into rightful categories that blacken
Her illusions in kin, friends, and humanity’s Ability to stand together against Violence, aggression, destruction, and their powers’ Of being judge and jury to who’s allowed to lives.
Crave the jubilation of feasting, every religious ceremony that binds lonely souls into a community even if they are racially, culturally different, but, all enemity is set aside when celebrating the revival of humanity’s compassionate understanding. arrows from Cupid’s bow hits its target and transforms aggression into love, friendship, jubilation, owning that positivity, propagating it, and never letting pessimism or negativity spring into the forefront without a care,
And only those ungenerous with their humanity forgo gatherings that uplift the soul.
The wine flute, amber colored, Glistens in the light twighlight, caged, Jailed in a bird cage, vainly Trying not to succomb to the dainty Elixir of fire that has become The world’s addiction to overcome
Insecurities, depression, isolation Amidst the many, as she, elegant sophistication, Carries the caged wine, daintily Trying not to spill its contents, precisely Measured for the utmost enjoyment, As she crosses the sands of time in bewilderment.
The vanda blue orchid adorns silver, Long, wavy hair that frames her Violet hued eyes, button nose, And glistening rosy lips that pause
With each end note of the violin’s Hearty tune, that attracts butterflies, Transparent to royal purple hues, Flitting around her feet in sublime harmonies
With the birds that soar higher, As though being strummed better Through the violin’s strings That are taut in their place that brings
Wonder and symphony of animal And human lives intertwined in a primal Need for survival with a core Of compassion that’s human and not a bore.
Woman in my dreams, Hazy features covered, as you please, By groundsels whose hairy filaments Soar around her, blankets Her from head to toe, Trying vainly to get closer to blow Its velvety softness in a Tornado Of white that sweeps in an elegant flow.
She contemplates its fragility, Wondering at the reality Of how daintily flimsy Its flower is, while its stem is definitely Rooted in her heart, prettily Proving it’s longevity.
She reverently catches a blowing Head, as she admires its flowing Dance, whose strength is glowing In a sensual litany that’s dizzying.
Dream of the flower that nestles Its thorns into delicate hearts That beats for imagination that bleeds.
I watch as she pirouettes, Her dress, a parachute, flies In waves to her flutters.
Her sensual beauty attracts An audience, not for her moves, But for the supplication in her eyes.
They shine with an inner peace That translates into a pace Shinier than the purest diamond face.
My gaze is glued to her flexible Limbs that have divined that the rain bubble Ensconces her in a world where trouble
Is an abstract concept she’s never Experienced, as her innocent cover Protects her as she adds prayer to the dancer.
As her body flows, swings, undulates, She hears titters on her esthetics. She says: ‘Believe in a faith that provides Truth and dares to challenge lies.’
They then turn away and bicker, Having forgotten why she was a riveting picture.
I came across this and wanted to share the beauty, delicacy, and women’s strength in living a life carrying out many roles in a society that lacks appreciation for all she does.
Poetry for Change 