A woman is the fine art of creation
The master piece of the creator
Of various heights they are created
With different sizes, shapes and contours

Black and White they're created equal
A clay in the hands of the porter
A vessel whose value is under utilize
Whose glitz is mask by dust so dense

Wipe off the dust, glittering she'll be
Serving the high and low diligently
Never found wanting in her endeavor
With care she'll remain glittering and fit

A woman's body is the epitome of love and lust
Her bosom, a succor to the young and old
Heavens paradise on earth, bearing fruits
Though it perishes, it reputation remains

The love between a woman's thigh is wholesome
It is sweeter than honey or anything else
Most men...