Poem written by Greg on Saturday 13, October 2018

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She sings by night

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Upon breaking of night Where the primrose leans toward beams of lunar light Are heard songs sung of a sweeter time From tongue In tune, With waning moon She swings and sways with every rhyme Far away is heard the weeping tide Now bustling and busy city streets Where feet tap out a driven beat A breeze carries a full-throated melody Her hips In time With trembling lips, Her words behest such memory And on the curb; the weeping child At morn, I awaken and briskly move her way Listen for wistful call, ever long the day The primrose and her petals fall The eyes Have dried, The calmer tide, But never is she there at all

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    Ahhhh. This is very sad and very good. Nicely written.

    You need to begin each line with uppercase. Also, I would add some punctuation to impart a sense of timing.
    very nicely done Don't forget to capitalize that's all other than that I really enjoyed your poem, we'll done.
    Thank you both for your feedback. I'll make the necessary edits.