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A little poem I wrote a couple of years ago. I'd like to share it. |
| Here he comes, in shallow streams To row me off into my dreams His face appraised of silent screams The Boatman draws ever near Yet just as I’m certain of what it seems, An endless vast, where no light gleams, I question the make of these dim themes, And at last I am without fear Above my brow the stars all shine Each made of their own design And a truth that I cannot decline Becomes, at once, infallibly clear Waste not a moment in search of sign For yours will never be as mine No song sounds so divine As when sung with your own cheer I offer to you what I’ve found Lift the burdens by which you’re bound Take a moment to make a sound, And tell me what you hear No, not incredible, nor profound But upon it kings were crowned It doesn’t have to be renowned So long as it’s sincere |