The Perfect Woman
She sewed and worked a garden,
did the dishes all by hand;
her wiggling giggling kids
would straighten up at her command.
Her leftovers were loved as much
as was the chocolate cake
she drizzled with that special sauce
she always used to make.
Today they’d call her backwards,
but we knew perfectly
that all SHE’D ever wanted
Was what she came to be.
By Andrea Dietrich
For Michael Smith's THE PERFECT WOMAN Poetry contest
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.