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The Art of Hiding Treasure

There is a shop in Harbor Town,
A crowded, cluttered surprise.
Any who drift that alley down
are sure to find a prize.

The shop is made of knicker-knacks
and beaded hanging strings,
of fragrant wooden spice-racks
and bright exotic things.

The aisles are paths through heaven,
all odd curve and angle,
through glittering grottoes seven
where warm lamps dangle.

Delight wanders where treasure lies
and Wonder scouts the way.
Smiles light a stage of eyes
for Beauty to dance and play.

Above the shop, below the hill,
behind diamond-pane glass,
on a cushion on the sill
stares an almond-eyed lass.

Bright eyes wide, straining to hear,
glimpses the Girl-Who-Sees,
visiting from celestial sphere,
fog-shrouded silver knees.

Down the alley white fog drifts;
almond eye never blinks.
At the door silver head lifts,
great emerald eye winks.

In the shop golden bell tinkles,
an old man comes in
with emerald eye, laughter wrinkles
and quiet bearded grin.

Near the door on a carved stool
sits the Woman-Who-Knows,
hair piled neat and green robe cool;
upon her cheek a blush grows.

She knows where to hide the jade
and golden bits of fun
so all the joy that's custom made
will be found by just the one.

She greets the man and sets the board,
ivory tiles on rich dark wood.
She serves him tea and calls him Lord
and does all that she should.

For he's the lover of the Moon
come looking for a gift.
He always leaves behind a boon
for healing lover's rift.

The Moon has hid Her face from him;
he seeks to win her back.
Before Her love has a chance to dim,
a joy to Her he'll pack.

The Girl-Who-Sees tugs his sleeve
as he stands up from play.
She leads him to bright golden leaves
taken from the Tree of Day.

The Woman-Who-Knows hides a grin
as daughter reveals her treasure.
She knows the dragon will call again
a-courting Moon's pleasure.

There is a shop in Harbor Town
beneath steep rounded hill.
When fog drifts that alley down,
the shop lies hidden still.

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