Golden Harp
Castanets shriveled gold glare
Used and sheer silk stockings
Titans of quantity
Abyss of abandoned ideals
Inspired like Paris
Fallen on breasts of iron
Carved in smooth swans
Monuments of voluptuous fleece
Rise with sails and draughts of pearl
Grasp that which no asp attacks
Gardens that never cry
Strength elevate with turquoise
Diadem marvelous in new ether
We speak like roes and lions
Tired of the old translucent heart
Framed in the Louvre forever
When the speechless sing
Flowers bloom like sighing larks
Her name is epiphany
Graceful, serene like a golden harp
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Added by Poetry Lover
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