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Dust On the Head

Before the mid night,
       Under the elms beside my cottage
 I  stood still wet by the gentle falling rain, watching it drenching the nature reserves.
Where the gentle breeze from the cold touching my eyes lovely, closing in the mild feeling of the open heaven.
    
Then  i dreamt, in my dead i dreamt
In my dream i saw, a waiver bird 
Laying egg on a sycamore tree.  I moved nearer to wish  her well
Tis was a frightened call i heard ,in a feminine voice i heard
I knew she call my name , in a language i knew not
She spokes into my head.
I woke up in a cold sweat 
My staggering self saw nothing but a dancing flame blowing away my cold 
While it rain still yet the flame dancing without a trace of its heat.
Frightens! i move sideward  for exit, then i heard  a song : a soft and sounding  song of a songbird 
Singing  a preach of a sermon of divination
Telling nations the need to repent
Ringing loud unto every ears that hear.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things