Emily of New Moon
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The Poetess of New Moon
Seconds are becoming thirds, A lie as white as snow – The angel opens her eyes,Psirens singing from shining sea,Her sky falling like tomorrows,Crashing into todays –But in every bottled message,The lovers are confessing, Flower’s are catching lightning,Silver belles dance on golden threads,Upon the Moon’s road to a dream,These precious and fragile things,Ladies fallow in…