She bears no sword or bronze shield,
But her uniqueness is in the blackness of her skin,
The roundness of her hips
The fullness of her breast
The excellence of her mind,
Her strength and hardworking muscles,
And her shaggy hair that makes other women wish they were like her.
She can wrestle the most ferocious beast to save her child,
She can walk through thorns and deserts to prove her love,
She commandeers forces to stand for family.
She is like a beehive,
With swarm of bees circling round her
All hungry to taste her honey.
She is like a well ripened fruit
That attracts the glaring eyes of every passers-by.
Even the most delicious fruit is envious of this lady.
Where others have tried and failed,
She sits exalted as champ.
Where others crawl,
There is stands up tall.
Where others are permitted to fly,
She owns the airspace.
At youth she is like a rose petal,
At old age she is like a bountiful banquet.
For her smile makes men melt like wax.
And they stutter,
For her beauty stuns them.
Her gracious walk
Tells of the grandeur of her being,
She is perfectly fitted
To perfectly fit into the life of her man.
She finds her way through the unknown tracks of the ocean
She creates a path through the unwalkable desert
She stand with her man as a pillar buried in unfathomable depth.
Who loves her man more than the African woman?
Who fights for her children more than the African woman?
Who stands for family more than the African woman?
At the market place other women greet her with reverence,
They are in awe of her resilience.
They wonder why she remains strong after all the years of exploitation,
But she carries on because she personifies strength
And doesn't give up without a fight.
She is the African Woman
She is a real Queen.