What Do Women Like To Read
I love to know the books you keep,
Where silence gathers, dark and deep,
And stories bloom like summer rain,
To wash away the heart’s old pain.
Your favorite place—the darkened hall,
Where moving shadows rise and fall,
A movie theater, hushed and still,
Where dreams are kindled by your will.
The pages whisper more of her
Than him—soft words that always win.
For women’s voices, tender, strong,
Can shape a world where all belong.
Yet men appear as rivers wide,
Flowing steadfast with the tide,
While women shine like stars above,
Teaching quiet her art of love.
The river’s journey to the sea,
Is faith, is hope, is loyalty,
As waves embrace with endless grace,
The ocean’s arms, a vast embrace.
The moon at night, beneath the sky,
A silver torch when winds drift by,
It keeps its vigil while we sleep,
Guarding their promises, men must keep.
The rooster crows before the dawn,
Its crimson herald, pale and drawn,
It wakes the world with ringing breath,
A song of life, each day from death.
And all you read, and all you dream,
Are threads that weave a shining stream,
A book of love, both fierce and sweet,
That finds its ending, when she goes to sleep.
Copyright © James Mclain | Year Posted 2025
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