Troubadours Sing Their Hearts Out Poem by Antony Glaser

Troubadours Sing Their Hearts Out



Troubadours sing their hearts out
Surround me evermore.
Spirits caught in castled ruins.
Frangipani wait to hark.
Poppy dogs with sheepish eyes
lost in the dark.
Happy as a jester in Lincolnshire fayres.
Dragons Tooth flowering late.
Ordinariness dressed in leitmotifs,
starts to fade.

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