Gentle wins

Waves scream in black,
toss wild and throw their mane;
no harness strains them back,
none can pull their rein.

Yet, beneath chaste bow -
flaxen curve, halcyon;
They are bound and won.

What reigns and nary a sword?
Defeats and not a charge?
Strength to pull and never a touch,

Lustrous ascent,
without consent.

'Tis the pearl of night!
This gentle sphere,
who maims the waves
and holds the tide in fear.


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