The Woman Of Colour

Dear, dear woman of colour;

You wear your beauty like an armour;

And stand tall before your enemies, fearless;

And your determination to success is ruthless.

In the garden full of flowers;

You are a rare breed of a flower;

Your skin is as fine as a flour;

And the touch of your smile is floury.

Dear, dear woman of colour;

It is not your skin that defines you

But the colour of your beauty;

It is the fine art that’s hard to explain.

Dear, dear woman of colour;

The colour of your beauty

Disturbs the colour of fear that is

Within my heart with its sparkling

Bright burning red light like a red rose.

You are the true definition of beauty;

You leave footsteps in the wind

With the cologne that you wear;

And I follow that aura of beauty.

You light my road with your eyes;

While I’m holding your hand with a thought;

Walking together to the future of fantasy;

Where the only known dialect is love.

Your beauty outshines the stars;

Thus making the moon jealous;

And the sharp hues of your beauty stab and

Blind my eyes, yet with the eyes of my

Heart I can see it, dear woman of colour.