a girl sits above the river
her hair golden in the sun
eyes silver beneath the moon
coins scatter to the shallows
more wishes for rippling stars
& water striders in the gloom
her song flows with milk & honey
something about faraway lands
blest by radiant summers thrice
is myrtle the plant or her name
is she fertility’s virgin maid
or is she a mere whore for christ
who will know, let’s leave her alone
let her sit above the river
singing her inscrutable song
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024






Interesting switch from pastoral to crude. It works.
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Thank you, Dolly! 😄
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My pleasure, Tony.
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Is the girl seen through a veil, or is it that the song is thus heard, for certainly there is a veil there somewhere
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Either way, you may very well be right, Crispina! 😉
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🥰
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