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baby poem

do not grieve that it is over
i am in love with high far-seeing places
have you heard
little park that i pass through
some one complained to the master
this is the ship of pearl
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
star-dust and vaporous light
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
i have heard that a certain princess
the air is full of dawn and spring

 



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