"silent Song"
Her songs were hers yet us she gave...
That by which her heart we'd save.
From troubles bairn o'foolish strife...
Of prospect nil or turmoil rife.
Amid those mountains deep with dew...
Heard these words just those few.
Silent song or rhythmic chant...
Mountain through her did so rant.
Took we did with breathless dare...
Her burdens oh so great.
Carried then through time aware...
So such with to fear abate.
On sang she to us all...
Thus her heart now doth fall.
Into that which best be felt...
Within such song her tear did melt.
SeaWolf
©
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