Flames of beauty-fire erupt from her lips Like pure Pentecost Her sister-speech sears and refines Until all who listen Dazzle like divine gold Her mother-mouth

Another white bread and red wine wedding walks the well-worn path down the white petal-softened red carpet aisle. The pastor on display charges the bride,

Here, my brother, come take my hand As we travel together through a pilgrim’s land To discover our talents, our faith, our fears And realize

  Hand in hand, I know thee. Heart to heart, I love thee. Side by side, walk near thee. Face to face, work with thee.

Fair lady with the alabaster flask, How I wish I were there To smell that fragrance in the air All through the house. And what

©Alice Movius Painter 1984  There seems to be a game – that you must play, if you would rise. There seems to be a game – and

I stand at the gate. I look back at what was. I look forward at what should be. My name is woman, and so I

Today, I am a rebel. I forget about the laundry and dishes. I turn all my phones to silent And write. Yesterday, I cared what