There are some
Women who
Are confident,
Others that
Are unsure of
Themselves,
But challenge
Them on something
They believe in
And you will
Find their
Metal.
Some ladies
Are just that,
Poised,
Educated,
Enjoying
Their life
As it comes.
Others have
Had responsibility
Since before
They could
Play forced
Upon them
By the trials
Of life,
And have
Risen to the
Occasion.
Then,
Ever so often
A woman
Walks in…
Into the room
Into your world,
Rocks your socks,
And she may have
A mortal form,
But everything
In your being
Screams
She is more…
She is a Goddess.
Sometimes
She is a newborn
Babe.
Sometimes
She is the woman
You know you
Are going to marry.
Other times
She is an angel
Of mercy,
Here for a moment
Then gone,
Never to be seen
Again.
Sometimes
She is your
Best friend,
Or adopted
Surrogate mother,
Encouraging you
To greater heights
Than you imagined
On your own.
Every now
And then
She kisses
You…
With lips
Made of honey
And stardust,
Where skin
And toes
Tingle,
From the rapture
Of that first
Tender kiss,
Where forever more
It is imprinted
On your soul.
No matter
If
You ever see
Her again
Or she is
There for
The rest
Of eternity,
Always,
The first kiss
Of the Honeylipped
Goddess,
Is the one,
You can never
Forget.