Her Song

Her voice (that voice!) compels our modest throng
to listen with our nerve and pulse, to heed
the breath and beat embodied in her song.

She doesn't falter. Not a note goes wrong.
She reads our secrets, knows just what we need;
gladly enthralled, our mute, attentive throng!

She snares and captures us, till we belong
to her and to the music. Hear her lead
our souls into the sanctum of the song.

From Gershwin tunes to '90s pop .... Among
news-blurt and noise-blare, rant and strident screed,
our hearts find haven in her sheltering song.

We plead as one, our meek infatuate throng,
to listen without stopping to her song.

Poetry by Uncle Meridian The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 63 times
Written on 2023-03-08 at 04:09

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!


by Uncle Meridian