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May 2021
A child’s daydreams;
They come, then, go,
They crystalize,
Then melt, like snow.

The young child plays;
She knows no troubles,
Her daydreams drift,
Like clouds of bubbles.

Her life, so simple now,
No stress, no strife,
May this remain so,
The whole of her life.
Clive Blake
Written by
Clive Blake  67/M/Cornwall UK
(67/M/Cornwall UK)   
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