Monday, 30 April 2012

A Choice

A soft garment
Light in her hands
A soft fragrance against her face
Then a swish, a twirl
A pin to hold it in place
And some more just in case…
A beautiful colour draped on her head
Falling gently across her shoulders and down her chest
A peek at the mirror
She sees an image
A smiling woman, her head held high
She knows whom she has to please
And it’s not man
It’s the one above.
Lord of the worlds,
Knower of the unseen
His approval is what she yearns
So as the world turns against her and calls her oppressed
She walks out with her smile intact
Knowing one day in God’s court it’ll be rested.

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