I hear you on the radio.
I listen with my heart.
Your words lift my soul.
With you I am whole.
I dance to your rhythm.
It lifts me to the sky.
If you ever stopped.
I would ask.
Is it age?
Or simply that.
Your style has lost its spark. 
But til that day.
You’ll find me here.
With headphones in.
Listening in the dark.
And even after.
I won’t stop.
I love your musical prose.
And pass you on to kin so young.
So someone always knows.
Smiles as mine.
That first sweet time.
Hairs will stand on end.
They too will know.
How it feels.
To be blessed by your prose.

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