Phenomenal Woman

by Maya Angelou

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,

It’s 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.

I walk into a room just as cool as you please,

And to a man, the fellows stand or fall down on their knees.

Then they swarm around me, a hive of honey bees.

I say,

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.

Phenomenal woman, that’s me.

Men 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 say they still can’t see.

I say,

It’s in the arch of my back, the sun of my smile,

The ride of my breasts, the grace of my style.

I’m a woman phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman, that’s me.

Now you understand just why my head’s not bowed.

 I don’t shout or jump about or have to talk real loud.

When you see me passing, it ought to make you proud.

I say,

It’s in the click of my heels, the bend of my hair,

The palm of my hand, the need for my care.

‘Cause I’m a woman phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman, that’s me.