The years seem eons, ages,
Since I traveled, young and free,
When the songs my harp would whisper
Would bring everyone to me.
Women young and soldiers aged
Came to hear my siren lyre,
Came to lose themselves in music,
Dulcet sounds of sweet desire.
So, if lyric language is your bag, if you still get transported with the poetry of Keats and Poe, but long for messages a little more here and now, this may be the poetry collection for you.
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