. . . I wrote this last week, it hasn't been finished yet. Please tell me what you think, even if you hate it.
On the banks of Helford River
Little stirs tonight
Cosy in their beds each resident
Has said his last “goodnightâ€Â
Save for me under thatched roof
And one woman –
Dancing on the moonlit
Immobile waters; a phantom
The trees they may rustle, but
They do so silently
The cottages are like black coals
But are not thus ominously
The stars and the moon peep through
Partitions in cloud
And the woman, she dances
She dances in an ecstatic shroud
Of mystery,
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