Ivory towers,

silver spoons,

wilted flowers,

lakes and loons


Perhaps I've seen

the world from here

in my home, serene

palace of tears.


And perchance I've dreamt

to dream of dreams

of bright torment

and moonlight beams


Mayhap I'll find

a sky where I

can free my mind

to sing, to fly.


But here in white

and glowing grey,

and rippling light

and sweet decay


My sky is but

a blanket blue

to keep them shut- - 

these dreams of you.


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