Lyre, Lyre

For The contest "Fill Up A Scroll " With hand upon the golden lyre Her fingers intertwined the wire With her hair, like burning fire Rest upon her breast The music that she plays, it tells Of love that's lost, and broken spells Tolling like cathedral bells Down deep inside her chest From the scroll, she frees each note With her heart, they rise then float Beyond the castle walls and moat Truly she is aptly blessed Gently now, she reaches too Another scroll She'll play for you And taming that unruly shrew Freeing you to lie and rest