Cath Harrington

Rookie (England)

Loves Fair Hand. - Poem by Cath Harrington

Oh come forth, what ye say of loves fair hand,
singing across the waters, dripping like golden sand,
counted in time, to a sweet melody,
each note that passes, in the shade of a tree,
I heard you calling to a song so rare,
mystical creatures dance with feathers in they're hair,
they say his heart is breaking, but this I can not see,
for behind this melancholic verse is a man that loves me.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Poem Edited: Tuesday, December 27, 2011


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