Em's Celtic lap harp

I made her a harp last year (from a kit)

papa
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The Harp

The gnome works in high shadowed caverns
While the pixie dances north of grace;
But together they craft the Myrddin
That his heart strings may sing again.

Honed with the teeth of the Gusari,
And rubbed with the sands of yesterday;
They'll polish his soul with eider down
And set his eyes with sharp points of light.

His voice will be one with cherried brass,
And Em will caress his fine combed hair,
For he'll be seen as a falcon wing
That flies onto the Goddess and ever.