Woman

She entered without hustle,
And folded her hands.
As she sat by the wicker,
Where the tall vase stands.

She raised up her face,
That was lined with a grin.
Showing an innocent contour,
Of her rose-tinted chin.

In the role of a woman,
She had known strife.
In her...had grown bodies,
For the spirits of life.

Talents did become her,
And her way was to please.
With an angel-tuned voice,
As she played on the keys.

She was one of so many,
That willfully receive.
She was a woman...a mother,
And so much...like Eve.

E.P. 1908 - 1989