My Virtuous Woman Poem by Abel John

Last time I saw a damsel, virgin
she was,
I knew it was true but she
wasn't so good to look upon
So I went for her.
Black beauty and I knew what
was to be done
So I showed her love;
For in the household of good
look pretty is a sibling.
I love her so much for she's my
virtuous woman.

Spiritally edified,
Emotionally certified,
Her heart like that of Ruth
And what I felt, showed her the
root;
For I knew she would make a
good wife,
Being by my side a whole life.
But before my very eyes she was
laid to rest,
Leaving my world rattled into
pieces.

If tears could give her life back,
The ocean that flew down my
cheeks would make her live
longer than Noah.
The wound is healed
And the fire in my heart
rekindled.
But this time I sipped beauty.
She was almost hard a nut to
crack
But my virtuous woman taught
me woman's things:
Clothe and make a lass look
good,
She's at your beck and call;
Propose marriage to a single
lady,
She has your spare-key,
And should you give a child to a
newly married,
Your dinner's ready before
evening.
So I won her by a price.

Spiritually effaced,
Emotionally crucified,
Her heart like that of Jezebel.
And what I had for her, not so
bad;
For I knew she would make a
rude wife,
Laughing at my flaws as ex-wife.
Life in itself a risk!
So I asked to marry her,
But she wanted to be a lawyer
before embracing the kitchen.

O yea daughter of Adam!
The creator made marriage for
no paper requirements
But for compatibility and love.
A life long choice many before
you sorrowed;
For beauty isn't a qualification to
hallow,
Even the most beautiful ones of
our time still lay waste in the
streets.
How do we keep falling into this
same pit that spills our blood
With our hearts bleeding?
You make rents of your most
valuable assets
And forget the journey set before
you is needing.
As you toll for today's success
Better days you darken;
For depreciation is no ally with
your flesh.
I've seen marriages crumble in
honey-moon
For fear of infidelity.

There's no competition in being
different;
It's lonely a journey worthy of
your mind and might.
Timing it's;
For no qualification can win in
this fight!
And time neither waits nor
wastes
But you wait and waste.
How I've missed my virtuous
woman.