A Spring On Her Soul

I actually wrote this one about six months ago, but just found in and now decided to post it.

A Spring in her Soul

There she is
that mysterious girl
that wears her heart on a chain
around her neck.

That mysterious girl
who wears a bullhorn on her lips
magnifying whipsers on the wind into a rasping shout
flooding lover's and stranger's ears.

There, she's walking by
wearing squeaky springs on the soles of her shoes
turning every shuffle into a spring,
every step brings a jump.

Look, what she left behind as she walks,
beautiful, golden smiles laying on the floor
leaving green grins
and red cheeks.

But the most enticing thing, this girl brings.
The eyes. Blue-grey and beautiful.
Filled with blue, compassion, smiles.
While eating through your ribs to your heart.
The blue-grey speaking sonnets of feelings
and lymrics of controversey
blue-grey bearing anger and happiness
joy and sadness

That mysterious girl
with the heart around her neck, her brain on her sleeve,
a horn on her lips, a spring on her sole.
A spring on her soul.

-Mike Howell