Who is the woman in me?
She is the softness of a rose petal,
Caressing her dreams.
She is the freshness of a new idea,
Sparkling with ingenuity.
She is the voice of wisdom,
Spewing forth the knowledge of her mother, Earth.
She is the timidity of a mouse,
Hiding behind a facade of courage.
She is the heartbeat of love,
Longing to be loved in return.
She is the excitement of a carnival,
Beckoning others to experience her fun.
She is the anger of an earthquake,
Breaking out of her constraints.
She is.
Queenie
April, 1997
