-- The Poem’s Soul --
By John Herlihy
The poem as a thing of beauty,
Gift-wrapped in precious words.
Inside an unfathomable mystery,
Singing the arcane song of birds.
The poem read aloud to unwrap,
The hushed silence to invade, steal.
On the readers heart to gently tap,
The poem’s soul to unveil, reveal.
The words spoken, the silence left,
In the aftermath, as if church bells.
Verses as waves rolling over depth,
Secrets only the poet’s heart tells.
Scripted words of the poem’s soul,
To lay bare emotions the heart stole.
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Copyright ©John Herlihy
Saturday 8 April 2023
Love ya!
Jane
Ron