where the writers are
A beautiful Woman

I see beauty in all that I choose

 Some I chose not to…

There will be those who look for elegance

Or a beautiful stance

The circumstance of what is a beautiful woman

The architect may say it starts with a strong foundation

Hot furnace of heart

Will they look for beauty if she is not?

For beauty isn’t youth, wash board memories

Is a chance making it through who am I a plot?

Those of beauty are not a trophy An object to collect dust upon the shelf

The feelings we have to share

Appreciated much more than the self

The rich mango color of my fine silk lips

Yellow orange and red sweet ripe

Flowers with white magnolias

 Lying upon my body fine painted hips

 Hour glass finger to the hilt

Cuts him as he glances

Cause me to vintage all thoughts

That bothers me less yester year still hot

I will not repress my beauty

Continue to grow and nourish the rest

Love is true beauty for it is first within the chest  

Therefore, I will share these roses I shall shear my thoughts

For At least there will be left one

Here for me on my way out

Flowers cover the nakedness  

As the wind fly kisses from a pout

 Therefore, I can be me

 Stop and smell the roses sat me free

My luxuries in life are the laughs and the smiles

The love I take with me no doubt