A Powerful Woman

In the divine creation
It is the lady who's supreme,
For her severe splendor
Of authentic perfection.
She appears while she walks
An angel that floats,
And fills the space
With her perfumed breeze,
A soul that, with its perfumed breeze.
The global is illuminating.

woman

The lady contains the flame
Of her perfumed incense,
Removing the veil to the immensity
That in all her being is inflamed.
She isn't always a mild flower at the branch
In glittering sparkle,
It is going past that which
That to the bare eye is reached,
For at the scales
Its splendor isn't always the seal.

When to a lady 's womb
Fortune has stuffed it,
For her can have come
The worthiest seeming.
The loftiness of her being
Wrapt in bliss is inflamed,
Then mom is called,
In the lawn of life
Where candy and moved,
Gives all and claims nothing.