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THE SEVEN DIVISIONS OF WOMANHOOD

Albert Price Avatar Albert Price - LIFETIME Premium Member Albert Price - Premium MemberPremium Member   Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled THE SEVEN DIVISIONS OF WOMANHOOD which was written by poet Albert Price. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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THE SEVEN DIVISIONS OF WOMANHOOD

To Shakespeare I give all due respect,
But the world must be a huge theater I suspect.
Woman’s the major player if not the star,
For she influences all with love from afar.
The main acts of her drama as one envisions,
Occur for my audience in seven divisions. 

First the helpless infant in her nurse’s arm,
Fresh from God’s hands smiling and warm.
Yet guiltless and untouched by worldly strife,
She is but a stranger to sin in this dawn of life.
In her pink crib she looks cute and pure,
With a smile on her lips so modestly demure.

Next as a tender young girl of school age,
With pigtails and grace she enters the stage.
An innocent young girl loving dolls and toys,
She has no taste for bruises, math or boys.
Her voice is like music whenever she speaks,
Explaining with emotion the desire she seeks.

In the sweet summer age she becomes a blossom,
And weathers the waves in the role of stardom.
Now she’s a young lady with a pure, creative mind,
Nursing dreams of a life moral and refined.
When put into the orbit of heart-consuming men,
Overcoming dying hope, her world she has to win.

As a wife she makes her home a true nirvana,
 Winning from the man she loves her merited honor.
 She is in hard times his source of consolation,
And in times of pleasure his joy and elation.
As a lover and a mate she continues to perform,
Keeping house and home through every storm.

Now for the most blessed age of female life,
She assumes the role of mother as well as wife.
Like God's miracle, the first is released with a hurl,
Then with tears and a scream from womb to world.
Before long baby laughs aloud and pleads for caress,
And mother love with playful smile grants the request.

Next the vestiges of youth appear a distant dream,
And spring's lovely buds now attest to her final esteem,
As she enters her mournful stage of the widow's woe,
Her glance upon her children falls as her eyes overflow.
She has lost all her young heart once fondly enjoyed,
And in the business of change of life she's fully employed.     

 With the final division, youth is now a faded flower,
 And she can bask in the coolness of the evening hour.
 As she enjoys the reflection of her progeny having fun,
 She is reminded that maternal pleasures are not yet done.
 She continues to impart knowledge necessary to sustain,
 As she guides their hopes to reach for the heavenly domain.


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  1. Date: 2/14/2012 6:07:00 PM
    Really enjoyed reading the way you have observed the vital role that women can play in the whole of life Albert,, and good to see it as a featured write..!

  1. Date: 2/13/2012 4:51:00 PM
    Beautiful impressive write....thanks for sharing : )

  1. Date: 2/13/2012 7:18:00 AM
    Very nice work. Congratulations on being featured by Poetry Soup this week...............S.Ronthorpe.

  1. Date: 2/13/2012 5:33:00 AM
    Congratulations on your poetry being featured this week Albert. Love, Carol

  1. Date: 11/16/2010 3:51:00 PM
    In the time of Shakespeare there were woman players. All the same life is drama of seven stages, Albert

  1. Date: 11/16/2010 3:21:00 PM
    A lovely piece, i am in the faded flower group now..youve captured each stage so beautifully.BG

  1. Date: 11/16/2010 1:56:00 PM
    This was so beautiful to me! I truly loved reading every verse of this magnificent poem! It certainly describes a woman's life from infancy on. Thank you so much for sharing!