Marie Poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes

She could be as my Florence Nightingale,
Or Naiad lodged in misty dreamland stream,
Whose tunes among the songbirds never pale,
Which may yet overshoot into your dream;

I grant I know not which music to hear,
Intoned within her speech were symphonies
That play much louder with her coming near,
A fitting source of future memories;

But songs are heard as well though yet unsung,
Her eyes could send afloat the notes somehow,
The same as by her name some bells have rung,
What sheer imagination can allow;

When salves fall short of healing for a while,
My heart finds no balm better than her smile.