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A Poet's Dream

If I could be a hillside in the early spring, something to make a poet sing, I'd be adorned with dancing daffodils. If I could be a river flowing wild and free transporting life from hills to sea, I'd challenge many able poets' skills. If I could be the sinking sun at day's demise, weaving crimson ribbons through grey skies, a poet's dream I would fulfill.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

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