Poetry For Women (For Women, By Women, About Women)

A Womans Worth

She gave life. She is a wife.
She is a mother and she is a friend.
She is a sister a survivor to the end.

Appreciate her, we don’t dare.
Ask her worries, we don’t care.
Wipe away her tears, they are invisible as air.

She works cooks and clean.
She laughs, helps comfort, and hides her pain.
When you struggle she pulls you through

All this is she and what do we do?
Complain and create a mess.
Provide stress and leave her feeling depressed..
Push her away and ignore her advice.
Tell her she is nothing without thinking twice.

She was raped tortured and abused.
Told she was nothing and would always be used just for pleasure forget her pain.

She swallows her pride, put her feelings aside.
Does as you need in order for you to be free.
Ignores your ignorance and tolerates your flaws.
You call her Bitch, Slut, Hoe and Tramp
She answers with pride dignity and a complete loss of self.
You call her nothing.
I call her Strong, Smart, Sensual, Caring, Giving, Surviving, Tolerant and powerful
I call her WOMAN!

© Ashanti Holliday                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Source: http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/a-womans-worth#ixzz2xflIsfuN
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Poetry for Women (For Women, By Women, About Women)

Girls vs. Women

Girls are insecure; Women are confident.
Girls dress trashy; Women dress classy.
Girls are students; Women are teachers.
Girls are listeners; Women are preachers.
Girls makes babies; Women raise babies.
Girls have sex; Women make love.
Girls are weak; Women are strong.
Girls fight; Women walk away.
Girls argue; Women speak.
Girls give in; Women compromise.
Girls envy. Women appreciate.
Girls give up. Women strive.
Girls look. Women see.
Girls take. Women give.
Girls follow; Women influence.



Christina E. Brown

Poetry for Women (By Women, For Women, About Women)

THE PEARL

Photo credit due to http://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0177/1012/files/tahitian_pearls_1_grande.jpg?1621

When I was born, my mother gave me a pearl
It was flawless and shiny and beautiful and mine
As I grew she told me that my pearl was precious
And it was
She told me it was special
That I could do with it what I wanted
She said it was mine and no one could take it away from me
I kept it safely on my neck, so no one could take it away

When I was 16, a boy, a charming boy came by
He was sweet and kind, he told me so many nice things, until
Until he took my pearl
He smashed into thousands of pieces
He didn’t stop until it was nothing but an ugly dust
Then he lay the shards back in my outstretched hands

When I told people of his treachery
They said I deserved it for displaying it so proudly
They said that’s what boys do
They blamed me for giving my pearl worth
They, who taught me the virtue of my pearl,
Now attacked me for seeing its value
And not the boy who hadn’t
Not the boy who took it from me and destroyed it while I watched helplessly


 -- Coley Poet

Children's Corner; Poetry

The World Cup

Even Though I Am a Girl
The world cup would be amazing
Although it would be so hard to concentrate
With all those giraffes grazing

I mean Rooney could kick a ball
Score a goal and sing a song
But it's nothing compared to the sight
Of a baby elephant plodding along

I mean, John Terry can go for a tackle
Break some bones and be in pain
It's a shock, and then no one cares
There's a lion with a purple mane!

I think I would be too distracted
Because that word explains me
So I think I'll stay home and save some money
So I can watch it on a 60 inch TV




by Olivia Rix (aged 11)

Children's Corner; Christmas Stories

Mama's Christmas Miracle

Mama told me a story a long long time ago not like any that I'd ever heard,

all about a little girl mama used to know, how I remember every word.

Seems like a lifetime ago, though I remember it so well,

it was a Christmas eve I'll never forget as far as I can tell.

We were sitting at the kitchen table, it was only my mother and me,

I was dreaming of Christmas morning and all the presents under the tree.

Dad wasn't doing that well and money was scarce that year,

Mama found a way of telling me without me shedding one tear.

She told me a story of a little girl and a Christmas long ago,

who came from far away, a place where it rarely snowed.

Santa was just a dream to her, but she believed so much inside,

that Christmas was going to be special, so she knelt by her bed and she cried.

"Lord let Santa remember me if not just this one time, I promise I won't ask for much, maybe a dolly I can call all mine."

She closed her prayer and thanked the Lord for all that she received,

she knew that Santa would really come if only she believed.

She wrote a letter to Santa unfamiliar to most girls and boys,

Though her list was long and full, on it there were no toys.

Only things we take for granted, like new shoes or underpants,

hair bows for her sisters and gloves to warm her brother's hands.

At the bottom of her list she asked if it not be to much, for a brand new baby doll she could hold and love and touch.

Then Christmas morning came and she looked beneath her tree,

Not a present to be found as far as she could see.

She didn't give up hope as she heard a knocking sound,

When she opened up her door a great big box she found.

She called out to her mother and dad, brothers and sisters too,

She said "my prayers were answered, there's something in here for all of you."

Her daddy got brand new boots, her mother new underpants, her sisters got beautiful hair bows, her brothers warm gloves for their hands.

Buried deep beneath the box was a brand new baby doll and a note that said Merry Christmas I love you one and all.

I'll never forget that story because much to my surprise,

I saw the true meaning of Christmas shining in my mother's eyes.

For those of you who are wondering, as if you didn't know,

The little girl in Mama's story was my mother long ago.

This poem is about a childhood memory I will never forget. God bless all the mothers in this world and may all your Christmases be ones to remember.

© Kathy J Parenteau

Source: Mama's Christmas Miracle, Christmas Poem http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/mamas-christmas-miracle#ixzz2nlt6WS9N

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