Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's
But when I start to tell them, they think
I'm telling lies.
It's in the reach of my arms,
the span of my hips,
the stride of my steps,
the curl of my lips.
I'm a woman,
I walk in a room just as cool as you please.
And to a man, the fellows they stand or fall
down to their knees.
They swarm around me, a hive of honeybees.
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.
Men, themselves, have wondered what they
see in me.
They try so much but they can't touch my
When I try to show them, they say they
still can't see.
It's the arch of my back,
the sun of my smile,
the ride of my breast,
the grace of my style.
I'm a woman, Phenomenally.
Now you understand just why my head's
I don't shout or jump about, or have to
talk real loud.
When you see me passing, it ought to make
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.
ęDr. Maya Angelou