A Shore, Atop. Long, Hot Trekked Poem by james watkin

A Shore, Atop. Long, Hot Trekked



Left to this wind-shook sheoke
To articulate
If discordant, all the while
Does not abate
What from out those heights, Heaven's
Is on lyre strings played.
A music, restorative.
Buoys up hearts dismayed.

between aireys inlet and angelsea

Wednesday, April 26, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: music,wind,tree
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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