In the hush where whispers fade,
Edna’s light began to wane,
Yet her words, like stars, remain,
A beacon in the gathering shade.

Through verses tender, fierce, and bright,
She danced with moonlit grace and fire,
Her spirit, free, would not retire,
Even in the soft embrace of night.

The world mourns the poet’s flight,
But her echoes linger on the breeze,
In every rustle of the trees,
Her legacy a guiding light.

Her soul, a tapestry of dreams,
Woven with threads of hope and pain,
In the silence, we hear her name,
A melody in twilight’s beams.