Woman.
No nonsense. Straight shooter.
Annie Oakley with 10 gallon hat
and rifles.
Slipping out of those
cowgirl duds,
and into
evening’s wear,
revolver fastened to
inner thigh,
she becomes an elven
princess, all shimmer and gleam,
but packing all the bite.

Mother.
Patience. Caring, nurturing
mama bear with teeth.
Never relinquishing
her duties for one hour,
working on nature’s beat.

Goddess.
Fertility implied
in curves of the body, no artist
quite rendering justice.
Unto Demeter
one’s homage gives,
the flow of the seasons,
and mother’s love for the child.

Wife.
Committed. A friend
who will not leave
in the darkest hour.
Loving to the end.