Maya Angelou Poems
|41.||The Mothering Blackness||1/23/2012|
|42.||The Rock Cries Out to Us Today||2/8/2016|
|44.||The Week of Diana||3/9/2016|
|45.||These Yet To Be United States||1/17/2015|
|46.||They Went Home||6/18/2005|
|47.||Touched By An Angel||1/3/2003|
|48.||We Had Him||1/13/2014|
|50.||When Great Trees Fall||2/15/2016|
|51.||When I Think About Myself||9/15/2015|
|52.||When You Come||1/3/2003|
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.
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
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.
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my ...
Welcoming Bluebeards to our darkening closets,
Stranglers to our outstretched necks,
Stranglers, who neither care nor
care to know that
DEATH IS INTERNAL.
Savoring sweet the teethed lies,