Her name is not on your lips
You do not know her.

But she knows you,
like she knows
me.

There is a voice that whispers
from rainbows
or the peaceful aftermath of storms.

It is her playfulness seeking you out
to challenge you,
listen.

Wisdom comes in her feminine form
that bows to none but truth.
She dances in the moon in lace
with sleeves passing grace
if you would but take her hand and enter
beyond you.

Blessed are those who find her.

Heathcliff knew not how to love her.

I know her love
and we who see her wisdom and beauty
know Kathy.

O.
And you, there
Always with words that
wrap like blankets

Nice poem .

I kept my promise