As Only A Woman Knows Poem by Mark Heathcote

There's nothing more soothing than a heartbeat.
The pulse of your heart is an embalming song!  
If I could stay here forever, disembodied
Why don't you lead me and guide me thereon?  

On the wings of a dove... wings of your love.

Why don't you heal me with your womanly, love?  
Why don't you nurture me in your tender arms?  
'Good god, ' what sweetness now delivers me
Cradles tells me, child, that you aren't nobody.
I promise you, my love for you transforms.

Why don't you let me lead and guide you thereon?
Only a woman knows to be strong.
As only a mother can, stop life's blows.
Give me a second chance, a third or a fourth.

On the wings of a dove... wings of your love.

When you were seventeen with stars in your eyes,

Like a huge Python, winding round and round
The rugged trunk one indented, deep with scars,  
Up to its very summit, near the stars,  
A creeper climbs, whose embrace is tightly bound.