Her soul pens herself to the pages
As she has done throughout her ages.
The antidote to the venom of sin
That she defied from within.
Secret tears that dripped onto paper
Dotted around ink that when read later
Marked milestones in living.
All her giving
Begins in words formed in images inside
A mind that stood tall and didn’t hide
When others would have crumbled.
Not for her a rage that rumbled
Or bitterness eating at purity.
Her pureness is what got through to me.
Hours spent pouring out masterpieces
That when she releases
Onto ears and eyes
The silence is from those mesmerised.
At times like these I’m speechless,
When I see her audience so impressed
The tears she fought away in write
Appear joyfully in my eyes... she sees me wipe
Them as I’m moved beyond words.
Her heart spoke. My soul heard.