Phenominal woman

When I was young it was good to be a woman. I loved to dress up to parade at night before the crowd in the pub. Being very shy I wasn't aware of anybody interested though. I wish I had the confidence I have now. As the night progressed and I got warmed up to the music and I lost myself in dance. When I danced I felt like a woman.

When I was older I married and got my first child. Just after she was born I had to walk a couple of times to the cot just to believe there was a little human being I brought forwards. From than on I lived for my children and turned into a lion who protects her young. I played with them, laughed with them, worried about them, thaught them a lesson. I was happy to be a woman.

When I was older I lost a bit of it. I dance when nobody is there as I feel like an elephant dancing the swanlake. My kids don't want my care and company anymore. I mourn a little about this loss but I am more a woman than ever before, in every way I am still very emotional and sensitive. This goes with a sprinkle of wisdom settled in my first wrinkles. There is a bucket full of confidence. There is some left overs from my protective and motherly instincts and the matriarch is stil on the background. There still lingers a shadow from a femme fatale, no not really I am just a phenominal woman and I love this poem:

Phenominal woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

Phenomenal Woman

I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size

But when I start to tell them,

They think I'm telling lies.

I say,

It's in the reach of my arms

The span of my hips,

The stride of my step,

The curl of my lips.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

 

I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,

And to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees.

Then they swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees.

I say,

It's the fire in my eyes,

And the flash of my teeth,

The swing in my waist,

And the joy in my feet.

I'm a woman

phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Men themselves have wondered

What they see in me.

They try so much

But they can't touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them

They say they still can't see.

I say,

It's in the arch of my back,

The sun of my smile,

The ride of my breasts,

The grace of my style.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Now you understand

Just why my head's not bowed.

I don't shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud.

When you see me passing

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It's in the click of my heels,

The bend of my hair,

the palm of my hand,

The need of my care,

'Cause I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Maya Angelou