The midnight clearing
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dear we near the midnight clearing our bodies are interned our eyes delight upon the ceiling they watch the windmill blur as it turns and returns and twirls upon the contour of a curve
so close you eyes and we'll go walking if only in our minds and should we lay attempt at something you know it comes out right every time that we try we find our trepidation do subside
daybreak is on its way there are keep sakes in the drawers and though our worries lay in wait they do not hold the floor anymore we're a blur and we lay upon the contour of a curve
