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2 Nephi 13: 24
I used to envy her.
When she walk, the butterflies
and all the eyes go with her.
Her lips have danced
the sway of her hips.
Her face marks a man's mind
as he sleeps.
And when she talk, the angels -
they get dumb and all the ears
wait for her.
When she dance, the music -
it gets heav'nly and all the men
wait for her.
But as once Isaiah saw,
now I see.
The woman I used to envy
is burning instead of beauty.
2 February 2011
Batac
poem
by
Jessel Jane Tevar
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