From Jannah’s poetry page
No longer shackled by the oppression
of miniskirts and see-thru shirts,
my sisters stand proud.
Covered by cloth and more so by conviction
submission to Allah, they stand apart from the crowd.
The taunts, the jeers, the stares, the leers
Never fazing or dissuading them from following the deen.
Real women they be, the epitome of femininity
strong, secure, complete human beings.
Not slaves to the world of fashion
which is always askin’
for women to dress in as less as they can.
Their hijab is for the sake of Allah
in imaan and taqwa
they refuse to be objectified by man.
Such are my sisters in Islam. | Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.
Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, which came up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins, and none is barren among them.
Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is comely: thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within thy locks.
Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armoury, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.
Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.
Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee. |