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A woman at her best
Hammered glue striking blue in moods
she lay there in pool of her own
working hard and fast she had got that
thoughts were full and act was a pull
validation lay in thoughts she vowed by that
disarming and endearing she had proclaimed
not once but several times hence
whether it is an act of her own
or that of any other
she vouches and remains
with a name
that's no longer a game
throes of zenith
and calm of nadir
has her breathe long
she is on swan song
feeling husky and musky
her juices for now
quite gone
tired and feeling sired
she rummages and slinks
to her bed
for a stupor filled
rest with the zest
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