As
jade spires glint in bows of lace
old
Tain clips gilt from grey silk plaits.
He
fans red wings; lakes brim with buds
dew
sprays the rocks; a rare harp strums
roots
bear high elves; palms hail their gifts.
Tain
drapes his light to shield the realm
A
surge of volts jerks earth from sleep
All
gaze on skies that smile and flash.
I love poems where you have to dig and give it your own meanings. Do you ever promote your poems, elsewhere?
ReplyDeleteThank you for all your visits Philippa! Hopefully this time my comment will go through!
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