My Virtuous Woman
A woman that is good is hard to find
Because a good woman is not left behind.
Could I overstate her
Demure, elegant stature?
Everything she does is described as kind.
Fair hands are foreign to her,
Gold her heart does not stir.
Her lone, simple joy
Is when her little boy
Just enjoyed her labors as restaurateur.
Kindness to her is not a ploy,
Labor is simply what she enjoys
More so for that
Noble cause that
Opiferously, she stands to deploy.
Peradventure, I would remember when she sat.
Quite, but I do not recall that.
Rest, she will not take,
Sloth, bread will not bake
To place on the table where I lie my pratt.
Under the bed, her good name is not at stake,
Vindicated, she can bear heartache.
When you can only adore
Xanthippes as dressed ore
You end up with a major heartbreak.
Zaftig women may look good, but a virtuous lady is spiritually well proportioned.
