I posted an earlier draft a few weeks ago:
On the banks of mighty Helford River
Little stirs tonight save ripples white
Sparkling by moon and stars up hither
Villagers have said their last “goodnightsâ€Â
-Alone
But then there is me, body and spirit . . .
I see a dancer on the ripples
Under old thatched roof do I now see it
I scrutinize it, on the waters . . .
Narrow my eyes, staring at the dancer
See now – the dancer is a woman
Dancing on the moonlit bed of water
A fiery tribal dance – a phantom?
Hair flowing wildly like that of a Greek
Goddess, intoxicated motion
But with so much beauty that I can’t speak
Nor can I rouse myself to action
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