The Jews Harp Poem by Clive Culverhouse

if aromatic, can your sound
adrift on wings like strings to sing
by tongue and some from lighted tops
of cloud aloud let fly, let fly
o solitary eagle soaring high
these aromatic overtones
of demon groans to bees abuzz
on petal roams and onto tombs
of night in flight to morning's dew
harmonic rhythms meditate
the late, the new, the cycle through
sweet realm of realms, mine avenue
and though her breath is my breath too
the key, like she, can bloom