Gender Poems
My Detangling
by Aspen M
Hands, running across soul
Stern, firm
Authority, knowledge
I'm too weak, running, drifting
Water
......
The Anti-Suffragist
by Eva Gore Booth
The princess in her world-old tower pined
A prisoner, brazen-caged, without a gleam
Of sunlight, or a windowful of wind;
She lived but in a long lamp-lighted dream.
They brought her forth at last when she was old;
The sunlight on her blanched hair was shed
Too late to turn its silver into gold.
"Ah, shield me from this brazen glare!" she said.
My Detangling
by Aspen M
Hands, running across soul
Stern, firm
Authority, knowledge
I'm too weak, running, drifting
Water
......
The Anti-Suffragist
by Eva Gore Booth
The princess in her world-old tower pined
A prisoner, brazen-caged, without a gleam
Of sunlight, or a windowful of wind;
She lived but in a long lamp-lighted dream.
They brought her forth at last when she was old;
The sunlight on her blanched hair was shed
Too late to turn its silver into gold.
"Ah, shield me from this brazen glare!" she said.
