It was the way she painted it across a page,

Heard like the shot around the world

An inspiration I envied day through age,

My fingers trembled around a pencil I curled

Struggling to fit the pieces together

Through wind, and rain and stormy weather

It was when I was small I read her works,

Her poems striking me into absorption

Because that is what made it special

A torch that has lit me into today

A torch that helps me to not stray away

For maybe I can stay another day

The pages, telling of grief and glory

The Caged bird sings of an untold story