I shall write for you a poem,
no better or no worse,
than are those poems of other women
who write in metered verse.
But in my words you'll hear my heart,
it beats a steady pace,
you'll sense my soul and inner self,
see glimpses of my face.
My spirit soars with pen in hand,
my thoughts then framed in ink,
you'll find my passions and desires,
you'll see just how I think.
And on this page I give to you
you'll find my heart and soul,
one moment I'll be scattered,
then next you'll find me whole.
For in my verse I find my voice
and you might hear it too,
on paper I complete myself,
and bare my soul to you.
You'll learn about my fantasies and,
my sorrow and my joy,
you'll sit beside this ageing woman,