Author Information
She Is
She's the power of the sunlight
The mystery of night
She's the softness of a butterfly
On flower after flight.
She's the fluid coursing through my veins
The holder of my reins,
She's the medicine that eases
All the torment and the pains.
Yet the metaphors are weak
When it is of her I speak
For the beauty's clearly seen
That is this humble woman meek.
I see no weak metaphors here. This is very lyrical to me...I hear nature's subtle sounds throughout. A very lovely poem...eloquently spoken.