Softness surrounds her eyes
accentuating a look of wisdom.
Contentment tempers her voice.
A voice that flows to greet one
like a mellow brook
sparkling in the sunrise.
Her words traced to paper
speak of a true heart
that pumps compassion.
Her poetic refrains spill forth
like lava flowing on a rock.
Yet her steps are gentle on the earth
as though each journey is
a walking meditation.
Observing is an obsession
that ignites each draft she writes.
What if she changed? What if
she lived with the boldness
of her writing and the zest of her poems,
would her words become tempered
and her rhymes fall hollow on the page?
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
Softness surrounds her eyes
accentuating a look of wisdom.
Contentment tempers her voice.
A voice that flows to greet one
like a mellow brook
sparkling in the sunrise.
Her words traced to paper
speak of a true heart
that pumps compassion.
Her poetic refrains spill forth
like lava flowing on a rock.
Yet her steps are gentle on the earth
as though each journey is
a walking meditation.
Observing is an obsession
that ignites each draft she writes.
What if she changed? What if
she lived with the boldness
of her writing and the zest of her poems,
would her words become tempered
and her rhymes fall hollow on the page?
Inspired by observing a young girl writing in a notebook while sitting near a babbling brook.
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