The Lady Poet

The Lady Poet Your words fall down and down gently, And tumble across time’s worn pages, Soothing, harmonic, blended words, All pitched to a perfect perfection. Precious words, strung one to the other, Like a new necklace of white pearls, Finding ears that harken each verse, And the melody of each turning line. Words flowing from an endless sky, And flowing from filled grey clouds. Assuring words that find their path, Sure as a flowing mountain stream. Words painted with a heavy brush, And hovering in the hazy low mist, Of each day’s new morning light, Brush strokes on a canvas of beauty. Words with long reaching deep tendrils, Nourishing earthly grounded souls. Words floating with spring’s abundance, And giving sustenance to mortal life.