Unwritten

I hear her voice, and she is the sum of her voice. In all things she speaks, she is the sum of her voice. In dense woods, the quiet makes soundless her mouth. The dew on the leaves we see becomes her voice. The taste of her kiss is sweet syrup on my tongue, And the wisdom of two hearts escapes from her voice. Birds warble, sitting atop the tree's frosted limbs. In their songs, she finds the purest hum of her voice. Outside, the wind stills, and waves, on the waters, calm. The day goes cold, as all the world benumbs her voice. The tear filled eyes of young boys are drawn to her face. Their beautiful, enchanted eyes make dumb her voice. With rasping notes, sliding tones and soft words of love, Her melody makes all who hear succumb to her voice.