Afrodite’s Song: The Goddess At 50



Don’t tell me I’m “hot”

     because that word is not

          appropriate for women

               of a certain age,

                     let alone a goddess.

I am ripe

like perfect fruit,

soft and sweet.

My resolve is firm,

my thighs less so.

Don’t say,

     while ogling my decolleté

          that my belly “doesn’t matter”.

               Tell me it is beautiful

                    to cup your hands around.

My belly has borne

children and a lifetime

of giving in

for the greater good.

It has earned the right

to be soft.

Don’t call me “thin”

          like you would toss

               a complimentary wafer

                    at my feet,

                         a pale trinket

                              you honestly believe

                                  will lead you to my bed.

It won’t.

Let me share a secret:

Sex happens between

the ears

before you get between

the sheets.

Admire my strength,

     the curve of my vocabulary,

          the way I carve

               a roast chicken…

I am so much more

than a once pretty face

and body.

Tell me you think I’m wise,

     and that you like

          the sound of my voice

                when I whisper

                     naughty things

                          in your ear…

and I will love you

and be yours forever.

* Image from Google

**Crossposted from my primary blog:


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