Traffic in Sheets

Silk colour and lit-up candlelight the sheets I saw
By Severn's bridge that day . . .
O the lost history . . . O ladies and pageants of the mystery
Of February here and miles away.

I could have sung, but knew no fitting tunes
(For all my lore) of the spread
Of coloured sheets of the floods that ensure all June's
Dark fan-grasses of the pretty head.
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