Echoes in Time

Frozen in place were the hands of time....

Although as she passed by,
Some might glance and just imagine a simple girl
That life had confined to a humble farm,
Yet, her eloquence would betray such belief with deceitful charm.

In warm summer eves her audience is heaven's stars
In the shape of enchanted guitars.
Her spotlight, the moons soft affectionate hues
Delivered from constellations afar.
Ever so softly into the nights delight,
Upon the wings of delicate solar winds does her voice take flight.
Pure as an Angel's harp, it whispers and invites.

Her voice is heard deep within celestial galaxies.
The stars sparkle and chime,
Encompassing souls as they intertwine,
And for just a brief moment,
Frozen in place are the hands of time.