Who Is She?

Her gown flowed like a river, Touching the floor with delicate grace, Her skin radiant like porcelain, Her beauty unrivaled by any face. All eyes were transfixed on her, Awe-struck by her divine light, And even the greatest of beauties, Seemed dull compared to her sight. She walked to the front and roared, "The meal is ready, come in," But three seats sat empty, a rout. "Please serve us," cried the crowd, She smiled merely with glee, "Go to the guestroom," she said , "I'll serve it all to thee." The men walked to the guestroom, Where a feast awaited them, A banquet fit for kings without kingdoms. Then a knock pierced the air, Shaking the hinges with its force, And Interrupting their eating spree, At the door stood men of honor, The highest senates, one and three. And in the midst of them, the president, Gazed upon them with an intent gaze, Desiring a bite of the meal's plenty, Their gazes cast upon the food, amazed. For their dignity was like dust in the wind, Their minds, hallow shells unworthy of divine grace. "Enter, please!" she said, rudely, And barred the door with her waist, She cloaked and revealed what is to be kept hidden, The men stood, eager and hungry, Ready to feast on what she'd bid. Her beauty was like the sunset, Flawless and splendid to behold, Yet her hidden was one, Just like a woman, whose looks are greater than her age . But from beyond, a voice came warning, Of the truth that no one could ken, 'She's a woman of easy virtue!' Having heard all these, was not ashamed To show the men the forbidden, For her shame has been sold in return for a nut, withered and decayed.