Women Are Sublime

The kitchen where you stand,

Pots hot and stoves ablaze,

With spices you incite,

A mouthful of tongues that dance.

The plants in your garden,

Gently pruned, tenderly grown.

The children who obey your commands,

Are your gift to this earth.

A bowl of honour,

Set apart for life’s commemoration.

Those beautiful hands,

That wash dishes and clothes

With such pride and distinction.

In a doek, checkered and blue,

That sombre voice singing at the graveyard,

You are protector,

You are life-giver,

On your shoulders we rise.

Mogolekwane!