How shall I worship womanhood now?
Shall I imagine the youthful face in 40 years
To add wisdom in the creases by the lips
That reflects a redder tone of gloss?

Shall I lower my eyes like a spanked dog
To avoid a stare at the bare cleavage
With its ruby resting in the crevasse by the heart,
While the ****** shows its shape through the silk?

Shall I attempt to not smell the fine perfumes
As did the oils found in an ancient tomb
Once adorn a woman with sweet fragrance,
Or the minted breath and powdered cheek?

Since the invention of the white shirt      
My uniform has just a tie to express my day-
But each woman on this street has her flair,
Her hairdo, purse, ensemble to high heels,

Painted nails, wrists with bejeweled charms,
The daily shift of feathered hats;
How shall I worship womanhood now?
Long ago I chose one and she chose me,

And she still gets her eyelashes done.
I meekly notice the women around me
Like a tourist in an exquisite palace garden
Unable to confide my praise unto the statues.