Guest Poet Wanda Kay
Softly She Sings
Softly she sings, of a faraway land,
Where the meadows all glisten with dew . . .
With ginger and jasmine scenting the air,
Where the elusive Phoenix once flew
With castles aplenty, inhabited by
Souls all kindred in heart . . .
Where fulfillment is the rule of the land,
And disharmony has no part
Softly she sings, of a place in her heart,
Where the essense of all that land dwells . . .
Where peace is the stream, that waters the fields,
And love flows from eternal wells.
January, 2002
Wanda Kay's questions:
Is this poem repulsively mushy/dreamy?
Is the punctuation OK? Would it be better without any?
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