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inspirational poem

i do not pray for peace
the swan existing
which i wish to remark
like eagles on up high
sun stepped down from his golden throne
do i like it
at dawn, he said
two rows of cabbages
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
he came and took me by the hand
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
which keeps
i have to say good-night
over the river they beckon to me

 



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