THE GLOVES OF LOVE

I see her from afar,
See her spar,
Poetry in motion
A living symbol of the amazon nation,
A marriage of beauty, brain,, brawn and bravery
Sending her followers into a reverie

Sometimes she is chopping wood
At other times, hacking carcasses for food *
I see her repairing her tractor
Or wrestling a steer

Shunning the confines of a dress or even jeans
As she rides her motorbike waving at the shell shocked teens
Braving the chills of a fading fall,
To sail her boat in the face of a squall
But feminine enough to adjust the knot in her scarf
As she prepares for a date with a prospective “better half”


Not for her, the safe comforts of bus or train
She prefers to locomote using her own muscle and brain,
A perfect counterpoint to an effete literary diletteante
Neither strong or silent

Saw her again at a “tough man fight”
She was not a spectator, rather the tough man that night
But her injuries proved the fight was no fake
She had proved that what she gave, she could take
A combination of strength, beauty and vulnerability
Added to my admiration and respect, a warm sympathy/empathy
I feel the gentle imprint of her glove
As I express my love
As I keep talking through the night
She says little but does not leave at daylight

Spectator no longer,
But participant, author and composer
Of my love story
With all its complexity and many a storey


• Though personally I am a vegetarian and am against animal slaughter, I have included the above to show that women can excel at butchery too !!