# data[].attributes.body
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

# data[].attributes.headline
Title: Höfuðlausn Poet: Egill Skallagrímsson Dontae Barrett 

# data[].attributes.subject
Title: Höfuðlausn Poet: Egill Skallagrímsson Dontae Barrett 

# data[].attributes.headline
Hákonarmál by Eyvindr skáldaspillir Christian Harris

# data[].attributes.subject
Hákonarmál by Eyvindr skáldaspillir Christian Harris

# data[].attributes.headline
Fire and Ice - by Robert Frost - Korbin Grim

# data[].attributes.subject
Fire and Ice - by Robert Frost - Korbin Grim

# data[].attributes.body
Kenzie

# data[].attributes.body
i am not very good
at a lot of things;

i cannot paint
you pictures
because the beautiful
things in my head
cannot be translated

nor can i sing to you
as my voice has an
uncanny habit of
falling flat

nor can i play for you
as my fingers tremble
when my thoughts
cross over to how
you look, watching me

but i can brush the
knots out of your hair,
and work the knots
out of your back
when the day
has come too
much to bear

i am not good at much,
but i will be good to you

# data[].attributes.body
darshay

# data[].attributes.body
Amy Ludwig VanDerwater

# data[].attributes.body
I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies in summers that have been;
Of yellow leaves and gossamer in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring that I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring there is a different green.
I sit beside the fire and think of people long ago,
and people who will see a world that I shall never know.
But all the while I sit and think of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet and voices at the door.
~J.R.R Tolkien

Ben Cunningham

# data[].attributes.body
Morgan

# data[].attributes.body
You guys are picking some good poems!!!!!!!

# data[].attributes.body
i do not want to have you
to fill the empty parts of me
i want to be full on my own

i want to be so complete
i could light a whole city
and then
i want to have you
cause the two of
us combined
could set it
on fire

# data[].attributes.body
Poet: Tera Lee Jubinville

# data[].attributes.body
-Zach R