The Harp Players - Poem by Mark Heathcote
When; dark & light
Sickle moons play harp
Escarpments her side shone
Even brighter than, ever…
Here, his hand swam like coy carp.
Where delicately the dews moister
Clings, comes together in warming cloister.
…Even before the stars have rung,
She has claimed; her pearl in an oyster.
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