The face of a woman may become old,

Yet, deep inside her heart, her feelings are not cold.

A sharp pain of sadness may strike her body,

Yet, she will hold herself upright like a lady.

 

She may take a bath in a sumptuous marble tub,

Yet, like a lioness, she jumps out to protect her cub.

Life may be squealing and screaming around,

Yet, young and statuesque, she stands in her gown.

 

Her past may be toxic and tumultuous,

Yet, with fierce pride, she’ll make the future glorious.

She may have unconscious desires beyond her control,

Yet, with a firm grip, her senses she will hold.

 

She may feel a weight on her chest, like a stone,

Yet, she will glance imploringly at the shy and never moan.

She may have a sense of impending danger,

Yet, her stamina will never make her feet stagger.

 

Green as pea soup,

Red as pimento,

Juicy as pineapple,

Tasty as pudding,

She always holds the sky with one hand

And her children with the other

While her huge eyes are focused on angels.

 

pramila khadun