Moon by the Tide
What value is the Moonlight
Coming over, then
Leaving over, and
Over again.
No crisis, just burning
Some heartwood
Every lover so fond
Yet, the value is known
Only when, the Moon
Is hung over a tide
Putting in fears
In lover's heart, that
It may desert for ever
Who shall then, bother for
The green, heartwood
Struggling to gather, some ambers?
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