Scent Of A Woman Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Oh, and what body does a woman hold
That men grow fond of it so much,
Never giving attention to her tender heart,
Supple skin, simple joys, clear ebullience,

Diamond eyes, strands of hair like the skyline
Scented breath like extravagant wine,
What of it? I do not know,
And the mystery of a woman

Lies not facile
A woman is subtle
She speaks plainly,
But the message is eloquent and dashing
A woman will forever be enamoring.

The laugh,
As she breaks in a peal of patrician laughter
The sound it makes,
Must and should be the greatest symphony
That a man’s decrepit ear would ever get a hold of

Her volatile state, of swinging like a pendulum
From sadness to merriment
Is not a question – it is a quest
On how a man should station a woman
In an unmoveable state of perfect bliss,
And not the city of poignant frowns and tears.

The way a woman finds you,
With her gritty hands like the sea and the sand,
Is in synch not with fate, for fate is a lie,
But with perfection that cannot be grasped
The blarney of a woman,

If you feel it within you,
It renders you whole and free
Oh, the ways of a woman
I could never ever forget.

The way a woman leaves you,
With her spiteful intent and ardent disdain
Will cause you to afflict more pain in your sleep
And think about the greatest loss

She will leave you cold
Barren, deserted, an arid region in your heart
Will remain there forever
Intact, like the memories of how
It took a matter of seconds to converse,
And a whole lifetime to forget and depart.

The ways of a woman,
I might not have seen all their kind
But I know, each one is a rare find
And so I have found one,
And lost it along the way,

In the revelry of dismay,
And the mourning of disarray
But I will never forget
Her ways, her scent
Her eyes of iridescence
And my years of decadence

I am left with countless women,
One has etched
A dream far-fetched
Now gone,
Slithering like black water.
Gone