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yamaska

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yamaska is a woman from British Columbia, Canada

    WELCOME TO MY WORLD...WON'T YOU COME ON IN...
I do my thing, and you do your thing. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations , and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, it's beautiful. (Frederick S. Perls) Free Internet Security - WOT Web of Trust
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  • Created 09:50pm

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    Phenomenal Woman

    Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
    I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
    But when I start to tell them,
    They think I'm telling lies.
    I say,
    It's in the reach of my arms
    The span of my hips,
    The stride of my step,
    The curl of my lips.
    I'm a woman
    Phenomenally.
    Phenomenal woman,
    That's me.
    I walk into a room
    Just as cool as you please,
    And to a man,
    The fellows stand or
    Fall down on their knees.
    Then they swarm around me,
    A hive of honey bees.
    I say,
    It's the fire in my eyes,
    And the flash of my teeth,
    The swing in my waist,
    And the joy in my feet.
    I'm a woman
    Phenomenally.
    Phenomenal woman,
    That's me.
    Men themselves have wondered
    What they see in me.
    They try so much
    But they can't touch
    My inner mystery.
    When I try to show them
    They say they still can't see.
    I say,
    It's in the arch of my back,
    The sun of my smile,
    The ride of my breasts,
    The grace of my style.
    I'm a woman
    Phenomenally.
    Phenomenal woman,
    That's me.
    Now you understand
    Just why my head's not bowed.
    I don't shout or jump about
    Or have to talk real loud.
    When you see me passing
    It ought to make you proud.
    I say,
    It's in the click of my heels,
    The bend of my hair,
    the palm of my hand,
    The need of my care,
    `Cause I'm a woman
    Phenomenally.
    Phenomenal woman,
    That's me.


    Author: Maya Angelou
    Online Poetry at PoetryFeast.com
  • http://www.goodlightscraps.com/content/romantic-animated/...

    Rated Nov 29 2 reviews animation goodlightscraps.com



    A Certain Lady

    Oh, I can smile for you, and tilt my head,
    And drink your rushing words with eager lips,
    And paint my mouth for you a fragrant red,
    And trace your brows with tutored finger-tips.
    When you rehearse your list of loves to me,
    Oh, I can laugh and marvel, rapturous-eyed.
    And you laugh back, nor can you ever see
    The thousand little deaths my heart has died.
    And you believe, so well I know my part,
    That I am gay as morning, light as snow,
    And all the straining things within my heart
    You'll never know.
    Oh, I can laugh and listen, when we meet,
    And you bring tales of fresh adventurings, --
    Of ladies delicately indiscreet,
    Of lingering hands, and gently whispered things.
    And you are pleased with me, and strive anew
    To sing me sagas of your late delights.
    Thus do you want me -- marveling, gay, and true,
    Nor do you see my staring eyes of nights.
    And when, in search of novelty, you stray,
    Oh, I can kiss you blithely as you go ....
    And what goes on, my love, while you're away,
    You'll never know.


    Author: Dorothy Parker
    Online Poetry at PoetryFeast.com
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    Rated Nov 28 1 review arts art.com


    Grow old with me, my darling stay
    Beside me as we walk our way
    Through life's uncertainties. Be my light
    Through stormy days and dark of night.

    You are my half, you make me whole,
    You are the mirror of my soul.
    Without you, life would make no sense.
    Between us there is no pretense.

    You know my thoughts before I speak.
    You lend me strength when I am weak.
    You tell me things I need to hear.
    And, even then, you hold me dear.

    Grow old with me, my darling stay.
    I need you more and more each day.
    Grow old with me, my heart implores.
    We'll live in love forevermore.

    Written & Submitted By:
    © Janet Yaeger
  • Created Nov 27

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    Rest

    O EARTH, lie heavily upon her eyes;
    Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth;
    Lie close around her; leave no room for mirth
    With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs.
    She hath no questions, she hath no replies,
    Hush'd in and curtain'd with a blessed dearth
    Of all that irk'd her from the hour of birth;
    With stillness that is almost Paradise.
    Darkness more clear than noonday holdeth her,
    Silence more musical than any song;
    Even her very heart has ceased to stir:
    Until the morning of Eternity
    Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be;
    And when she wakes she will not think it long.


    Author: Christina Georgina Rossetti
    Online Poetry at PoetryFeast.com
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    Rated Nov 27 1 review photography photographers.com.ua


    Remember

    Remember me when I am gone away,
    Gone far away into the silent land;
    When you can no more hold me by the hand,
    Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
    Remember me when no more day by day
    You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
    Only remember me; you understand
    It will be late to counsel then or pray.
    Yet if you should forget me for a while
    And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
    For if the darkness and corruption leave
    A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
    Better by far you should forget and smile
    Than that you should remember and be sad.


    Author: Christina Georgina Rossetti
    Online Poetry at PoetryFeast.com
  • http://www.wtv-zone.com/morningstar/Morningstars-Dreams/G...

    Rated Nov 27 2 reviews arts wtv-zone.com


    Flower of Love

    The perfume of your body dulls my sense.
    I want nor wine nor weed; your breath alone
    Suffices. In this moment rare and tense
    I worship at your breast. The flower is blown,
    The saffron petals tempt my amorous mouth,
    The yellow heart is radiant now with dew
    Soft-scented, redolent of my loved South;
    O flower of love! I give myself to you.
    Uncovered on your couch of figured green,
    Here let us linger indivisible.
    The portals of your sanctuary unseen
    Receive my offering, yielding unto me.
    Oh, with our love the night is warm and deep!
    The air is sweet, my flower, and sweet the flute
    Whose music lulls our burning brain to sleep,
    While we lie loving, passionate and mute.


    Author: Claude McKay
    Online Poetry at PoetryFeast.com
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    Rated Nov 26 4 reviews photography tinypic.com


    Courage

    O lonely heart so timid of approach,
    Like the shy tropic flower that shuts its lips
    To the faint touch of tender finger tips:
    What is your word? What question would you broach?
    Your lustrous-warm eyes are too sadly kind
    To mask the meaning of your dreamy tale,
    Your guarded life too exquisitely frail
    Against the daggers of my warring mind.
    There is no part of the unyielding earth,
    Even bare rocks where the eagles build their nest,
    Will give us undisturbed and friendly rest.
    No dewfall softens this vast belt of dearth.
    But in the socket-chiseled teeth of strife,
    That gleam in serried files in all the lands,
    We may join hungry, understanding hands,
    And drink our share of ardent love and life.


    Author: Claude McKay
    Online Poetry at PoetryFeast.com