Nightingale keens
at last on a darkling plain.
Evenstar eclipsed.
Frodo's mortal heart
was aroused by rain-drenched song:
River-daughter's laugh.
Yet title intrigues.
What tender trap do you read,
Poet, love or quest?
Leaf fall and lock lost:
Autumnal wist take Gimli
with Galadriel.
The form answering,
an expostulation now:
'Tis less cold control
than measured finesse,
distillation of desire,
intensity wrought.
Bethberry
[ November 17, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]
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I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away.
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