A Silhouette

Oft...I saw her,
Standing there.
With head bent low,
As if in prayer.

Her moving lips,
I could not hear.
Only the glisten,
Of a tear.

This scene...some how,
Made me impart.
With a feeling,
Of her aching-heart.

Yet...well I knew,
There was concealed.
A deeper part,
So tightly sealed.

Where inner-thoughts,
Had always trod.
And only known,
To her and God.

E.P. 1908 - 1989