Sometimes she is like the true test of my soul
Open faced staring wild...the fascination of truth
I want to take her and show her the rivers of my life
The natural flowing inside of me that yearns to be her teacher
When she smiles I react in wonder
Wanting her future to be mine...
Sometimes she is like eruption of fact in my face
The mere gist of her womyness
Showers me in gentle rain
And I am forever in her grace...
Sometimes she is like the blossoming of blooms
Scented and reaching
And I am the soil on which she is planted...
©1998 by Carol Marie.....just a dyke living on the edge