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| 'Breathing Inspiration' by Trish |
witnessed with closed eyes, wildest scenes.
Were they real these valley's of sleep?
Were they meant, to use or keep?
Gold, red black, white or pale green faces,
ugly, old or charming and armed with graces.
I gazed deep as a soul can dare,
until at long last I discovered there,
not a shadow world of memory and chance,
but a windmill, a whirlpool of song and dance.
Tushie 13/8/12
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