The beauty of a woman

The beauty of a women is locked in her duty
Her joy is prime in her pride.
The routes of our warriors apparently is lucid and have lugged by this Luminary to men.
From a distance I saw her on the track carrying firewood
A babe on the back holding another in the hand
And  looks inn with a lump of the regular.
In exhaustion dragging her  limbs out of the tillage race
With a husband committing to just a cutlass and following behind.
Multi tasks her life's profiles
Mermaid whose brain mesmerises on the menu of labour
The stimulus to a rapturous family branded her  a rose of macho.
Her tenderly smile are irrevocable  like the beauty of birds on wings
And the gentle rustle of leaves when a soft breeze blows
Delighted in honouring her chores as she cures to every roar
 Upholstery covering the crooked in owns domain
First sights to the kids
Her beauty shines deeper and deeper as labour gets tougher
Reflections from the sun on her fall of perspiration makes her gilter like a Queen cosmetised for a coronation.
Glossing like a star
She could take the bread out of the Den and humbly kneel to serve her better-half a dinner
Beauty from the inner