A
rose girl sighs and strews her pods
stars
fire old gems to blast the smog.
By
glint of moon a tree plays pipes
as
mares fan wings and roe deer clap.
The
dark bile wanes; a red soul fits
sun
robes the maid; it spins gold joy.
Her
eyes brim love to gift man songs
a
pink horn blows; she veils her face
to
gaze on hope; the King's blest heir.
Absolutely adore this, the rhythm is just so perfectly lilting and punchy. Really enjoyed reading this
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