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, its 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. When I walk into a room, the fellows stand or fall down to their knees. Then they swarm around me like a hive of bee's. I say, its the fire in my eyes and the flash of my teeth. The swing of my waist, the joy in my feet. I am a woman phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, that's me. Women 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 are so simple they can't see....I say, it's the arch of my back, the sun of my smile, the ride of my breats, the grace of my style. I'm a woman, phenomenally...phenomenal woman, that's me. Now you undertsand just why my head's not bowed. I don't have to shout or jump about or talk real loud. When you see me passing, it ought to make you proud. I say, you crave the beauty of my soul, the palm of my hand, the redness in my hair and the need for my care. Cause I'm a strong black woman phenomenally....Phenomenal woman, that's me.
Maya Angelou's Poem
