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The Madman, "Yes, three days, three centuries, three aeons. Strange they would always weigh and measure. It is always a sundial and a pair of scales."

Monday, August 10, 2015


Milky moonlight flowed down like a dream
And draped the cool, velvet blackness of the night
In a warm cocoon of longing,
Every breath was a sip of wine
Every sigh a delicious torment,
The thirsty touch of the dew
Covering the hill where I sat
Dripped into my soul
Like the memory of your perfume,
There was music in the background
As the rustling leaves of the crowding trees
Laughed at my enamoured plight,
While the song dancing in my heart
Rose and filled the sky with love’s loneliness,
And I knew from the smile filling my thoughts
And the tear sweetly staining my cheek
That it would last forever.

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