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
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