The worn-out pages, soft and thin,
Of childhood tales I hold so dear,
Where dragons roared and dreams took wing,
And whispers banished every fear.
To trace the lines with careful hand,
And lose myself in worlds unknown,
A quiet, magical command,
A seed of wonder gently sown.
The sun's first kiss upon my face,
Through curtains drawn, a golden hue,
Dispelling shadows, finding grace,
In...
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