The Writer's Voice

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Dave Frazier

In a secretive hush was that voice's dulcet tone,

Ever to entice my curious posture.

Sweet melody tells a tale of sweet passion,

Soft breeze from afar caresses my cheek.

Not of a crescendo to stir one's breast,

With loud horns and cymbals crashing;

Drum-fire thumping upon one's very heart,

To pound out the deepest emotions.

Rather, elusively gentle to tease at one's soul,

To nonchalantly entice one into its chorusing.

Whimsically carefree as of a warm summer breeze,

To barely stir one awake from napping.

A Siren coaxing sweet and gentle melodies,

To stir the passions of one's soul?

Hypnotic threnodies of melancholy whimsy,

To dance at the edges of one's thoughts?

Or a whispering of the very earth,

Tell softly of an ocean's depth.

To decry a hidden passion deep within,

Searching to be heard.

Or a Heavenly chorus upon Angel's wing,

To rain upon earth--a myriad of pure droplets.

Soaking my soul to its very core,

Awash in God's Grace and song.

Ah, 'tis no matter! cries out my soul!

A gentle touch upon my ear I welcome.

To caress my life in gentle passions,

To hear the breezesongs I love!

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