I met her.
A woman with a child’s eyes
Filled with wonder and questions.
She danced through the snow
Cold could not touch her.
Her heart burning passion.
Her soul a prism
Where she shaped dreams.
Others faltered.
Her steps were ordained.
A child of Apollo.
She was her own Muse.
She spoke to the world
In a language
That caused wonder.
Armed only with quill and ink
She changed worlds
Shaped hearts
Made tears obsolete.
Her words were like songs
Indelible
Unforgettable.
They vibrated in time to a universal clock
Ticking truth and beauty.
Poetry was her art
Her passion
The altar where she shed
Her life’s pain.
All were amazed.
But no one saw the sad girl
Behind the beauty
The words…
She was a child of Apollo.
Her steps were ordained.
Quas.. this is very beautiful…just like you. You’re a child of Apollo too.
What a lucky person you are to meet someone like that… or is this about a famous poet? Interesting… well I’d like to know who this child is… send me the link!
Your words stun me as always
Hee…hee I wote this a while ago Para it was about Nyla. Just one of those things. Thanks my friend.
aww… I don’t have nyla anymore
I do miss her writes though. I miss reading a lot of people’s writes, in fact. It’s just too hard to have some and not others and I just can’t take all the drama that ensues. This really is a beauty Quas… I love it 
I love you Eddie… xoxoxo
Right back at ya kid, and all of it is true.