She has a quite pride in self
as Autumn strews her path with gold
these trees bestow bronzed silver wealth
on these who are the wealth of worlds.

One can see in her prideful strides
this proclamation " I am woman!"
a sisterhood the whole world wide
reaching back to their birth of man.

And so it was across the veldt
ten times ten thousand years ago
those yesterdays the claimed and owned
a vastly gleaming womb of gold.

They walked their way to Bethlehem
gave lowly birthing for a king
a thousand years with each small step
I see them all here, still, walking.

We've composed a myriad hymns
to sing their praises, for their dance,
we never met I never knew
but they all kissed me, with her glance.

I kissed my friend's red ruby lip
as I vowed we'd never part
and stroked her neck and took a sip
to warm my belly and my heart.

I caressed her shoulder all dewy eyed
as on her lip I gift another kiss
her smoothness soothed me nigh to cry
such sweetness I had long long missed.

I'd loved her from my very first
when her spirit suffused through me
such pleasure I thought I would burst
and for a time she set me free.

She was gone sometime that lonely night
when I awoke I cursed her near dead
with throbbing head and bleary sight
to find her lying emptiness by my bed.

At first his kisses mere filial pecks
around my ears my cheek and throat
so far removed from those of ***
but soon his eyes began to gloat.

His lithesome weight should comfort me
my only clothes a dressing gown
he squirms this open with brutal knees
same eyes as mine a deep dark brown.

He grasps my hair, eyes open wide,
twin grips of an owner's embrace
he'll make me be his loving bride
my eyes above almost my face.

He cries out Mom! I whisper, son
trembling at our sweet loving fate
belly to belly becoming one
whimpering as he *******.

When he is drowsy at the last
I'll pet him as a mother should
and clean him up from his forceful lust
with my tongue...

Are you being prepared for bed, when kist
will you resist an insistence of he
to quicken his lust, will he grip a wrist
and the daddy be to undress his she?

He strips of your clothing, in ownership,
and in doing so is he owning you
perhaps in this ownership clothes are ripped
but, of course, this is love, and his love is true.

After these few, preliminary, acts
a bruise or two, well' 'tis foreplay
and a loving man will bestow love's smacks
to keep his interest for one more day.

And later, if both be satiated,
if love be love, can there be some, hatred?