poetry critical

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A Celtic Dream

Celtic dreams are conjured-
in my mind, when I gaze-
upon her countenance.
Like an ancient warrior princess,
from a place too far ago
to remember, a distant and
enchanted land of mystery.
Where she rises on the field of battle
with fiery red hair and pale complexion.
Emerald eyes appearing as a reflection-
of some mystical sea.
Every angle of light reveals her,
not one golden ray can deny
such beauty, her aura is a glow,
She is a fierce and powerful soul,
yet to look upon her face inspires
tears of joy.
Any man would give all he
possesses, to have but a fleeting
moment with her in the sun

15 Aug 16

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Wow, she sounds beautiful. Don't take her in the sun though. Not these days or she'll be getting little nasties cut out every second week. Nice poem. Tidy writing.
 — PollyReg

Thank you Polly you are very gracious
 — Mattmckeown

I'm thinking you could do without all the commas and pauses and be A-Okay.  Reads nice otherwise methinks.
 — JKWeb

Celts in the Sun A previous 18 to.30 holiday schema
 — unknown