Everyone tells of a lovely woman
With opinions far and wide, yet beauty
Turns in many eyes, but we see within our hearts.
Pale is the rage of the East, milky white to match
the dark strands of straight and thick that cover
Mother Sun, who punishes despite our hiding.
Everyone tells of a lovely woman who
Speaks softly her language by touching hearts
Carved with sharp knives and arms of power.
Bronze is the rage of the West, supple tones
To match the instagrams of blond happiness that
Cover Father Time who punishes despite our hiding.
Everyone tells of a lovely woman, keeping eyes
Fixed upon her radiant skin as a child suckles
Hard upon the buxom of hope for an unknown future.