Jay Johnson Poet Lyric

Her Silent Soul

It was the night of the night.
                                             A delightful evening mild
                                             in the stillness of death.
                                             Her silent soul,
                                             so gallantly nice.
                                             There wasn't a moon,
                                              not even glittering starlight.
                                             The trees whispered.
                                             The winds watered
                                             honey and free.
                                             A loving past at heart
                                             Peach sent memory,
                                             Her loving touch
                                              rising sweet.,
                                             near and far.
                                                    Her silent soul.


                                                            By
                                                    Jay Johnson

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