Women — that universal topic. Men write about women; women write about women. They write about all kinds of women: tall, short, fat, skinny, plain looking ones, beautiful women, bad women —and good women. There is always the author who will write about that certain woman in a way in which only an author can write of someone he loves.
What is a woman? Is it her mind or Is it her body? Is it a combination of both mind and body? What makes a woman what she is? William Sharp wrote this about women: "In the beginning, said a Persian poet — Allah took a rose, a lily, a serpent, a little honey, a Dead Sea apple, and a handtul of clay. When he looked at the amalgamation — It was a woman.
If you stop and think over the quotation you'll flnd Sharp's (and my) vision of a woman. "A rose, a lily..." These are two of nature's most beautiful creations. From birth, the rose and the lily are beyond anyone's description.
"A little honey." Another product of nature, honey is one of the most naturally sweetest things known to man.
"A dove" The softness of a dove's feathers, the warmness of its body arouse a pleasure unimaginable.
"A serpent" who's mind and motion are as bewitching as a woman's. From the serpent and a woman comes the unexpected. A woman and a serpent have a mind of their own — if they have a mind.
What does a woman mean to a man? A mother, a sister, a daughter, a girl (or girls) are all the women a man can take In his life. A mother loves her son as she loved him when he was a little boy and even as he was when he was a baby. A sister loves her brother in secret — especially if he is her big brother. She loves him as one man in her life she can really trust sometimes (besides her father, of course).
A girl—or any woman for that matter— how does she love a man? This is one question I cannot answer. The reason is obvious.