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Jan 2014
She comes to me in my dreams

A lace wrapped wraith with golden hair

She runs carelessly

Through the mist shrouded  forest

of my dark unsettled sleep

A dream, a dream

And lost

I awake

And am left with the moist air

upon my bed

Damp and chilled I rise to my day

And all that is left

Is the memory of a dream
James Jarrett
Written by
James Jarrett
467
   Manny
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