In the womb's whispering darkness, a heartbeat began
A rhythmic pulse, a poet's soul took shape within
A dream of words, a passion pure, a heart that would sing
A poetess born, with verses that would be her wings

Her mother's voice, a gentle brook, that babbled sweet
A lullaby of language, that her heart would repeat
The womb's walls whispered secrets, of a world untold
A symphony of stories, that would soon unfold

As she emerged, a cry, a poem, a soul took flight
A dance of words, a rhythm, that would be her delight
She wove a tapestry of tales, with threads of love and dreams
A poetess passionate, with a heart that overflowed with themes

Years blossomed, like a garden, where words were the flowers
A kaleidoscope of colors, that danced in sunlit hours
Her pen, a wand, that waved, and worlds were born anew
A poetess, a weaver, of words, that shone like dew

And when her time, on this earth, was done
Her words remained, a legacy, forever won
A rhythm of writing, that echoed through eternity
A poetess's passion, that would forever be the melody

Her heartbeat silenced, but her words still sing
A symphony of soul, that echoes and takes wing
In her writing, she left a piece of her heart
A poetess's passion, that will never depart.

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