"Woman in Motion"

My eyes seem reminded of an egg:
white, a thin shell concealing warm life;
Or, otherwise, a fruit — round, plump,
indeed, the shape of something juicy.

But, independent portions do move against one another:
as one does rise, the other falls — the machinations of machinery.

From the point of view of an artist,
the lines (curvaceous, voluminous) appeal,
from an aesthetic standpoint.

Still different, the sensuous poet —
destined to imagine the feel, fragrance —
would, no doubt, construct a metaphor of nature:
O Mother Earth’s bounty doth surprise mine eyes!
Splendid! marvelous! my word I would give forever to know its ends!

And in songs, bards would praise Heaven;
music swelling to a vivacious flurry —
like frantic bees tied to basso hums —
dum! ba-dum! and drop . . .

I sum it all up, however, in a word:
Vision.