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Jan 2016
Life, what is it but a dream?
Things are never what they seem:
Masquerading moonlight schemes.

Dreaming as the summers die,
Straining for the heron's cry,
Echoing the endless, "why?"

Lovingly shall nestle near
Each evasive leeching fear
Roaming round this earthly sphere.

Never seen by waking eyes
Is the maiden fair with lies,
Turned away with every tide.

Autumn frosts have slain July.
Springtime hearts that should not sigh
Walk into the wintertime.

Pleased a simple tale to hear,
Loath to drop a burden dear,
The tired, twisted whisperer.

In an evening of July
Souls are lit by fireflies.
Time alone will make them wise.
Inspired by "Alice's Poem" by Lewis Carroll.
A B Follie
Written by
A B Follie  New England
(New England)   
   Gary L
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