Harp's Reverie

I daub the dewy strings with tickles, soft, Thus, angels such as I make dance, the rain ... For heaven's weep is joyous, shed aloft, Our harps, the dulcet pardon to your pain. As every drop that tumbles from our strings, Holds all that life requires to abound ... How wondrous that each tremble wetly sings, Of every hope a cloudburst can resound. ~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Choice W, Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor. ~ 5th Place ~ in the "Angels In the Rain" Poetry Contest, Vermillion Scythe, Judge & Sponsor.