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Saturday, December 13, 2003

Daddy's Tale

Sleep my pretty child, sleep deep
Days could grow long, this moon shall eclipse.
The night now is dark and sweet,
breeze and dew unfailing;
the dreams yet are fairytales,
mommy's lullaby accompanying.
Lock em safely in deep vaults child,
age them like wine.
Collect ye leaves and petals and
press them in your mind.

I wish your days don't stretch like mine
but someday you would see-
that dried petals and old wine
are certain cures for reality.

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