A woman’s heart is like hand-sculptured lace
Delicate and beautiful to behold
Continually evolving weave
Designed by the stroke of his hand
It is soft and yielding to touch
Yet firm enough to hold him gently
Open, so ribbons of love flow freely
A woman’s soul is like a book of wisdom
As you trace the words with your finger tips
You will read of her desire to give freely
Even when her own needs will not be met
Understand her yearning to nurture and please
Of the sensual passionate woman within
A Journal bound in Lace,
The one who weaves her masterpiece
Holds the threads of her future
Though she may stand tall with Angels
Show strength through adversity
Cry tears of compassion and pain
The imprints she leaves on her journey
Are created by the patterns of her lace
