THE DEPTHS OF 'ER HEART
There is one, a maiden fair, nice and good she is.
A million matters in her heart and in her eyes a million dreams.
Perhaps tis' those dreams there are that glint in her eyes.
Or are they thoughts that turn not to words and reach a sad demise?
Or maybe they are unsaid words that leave things undone
Or maybe they are the tunes of heart that have gone unsung.
What'er might be the case, the sheen is sure to stay.
Grit and resolve they hath shown.. She always has her way!
Though the turtle may have a shell, that is strong and hard to breach
It is only to keep safe the core, that's delicate and hard to reach.
Of what is made that glint of her eye.. no one shall ever know.
Of joy of sorrow of great lament, or of a strong heart warrior bold!