She wrote him five poems

All in one day

She put them all up.

Oh how he loved those poems.

Not because of the greatness,

For he didn’t read much

He didn’t care how much effort was made,

Though he did enjoy the care.

Oh how he loved those poems,

For they were written with soul,

And the soul was what he loved,

Because it was the soul of his beloved

That dwelt in those words.

It was her soul that he loved.