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The Moon and the Oak Tree
The moon spoke to me
while I sat listening in a tree
it told me of lost ages
and the wisdom of the sages.
A place where I could feel free
and wish to run alee
I count myself among the mages
while fingers slip through magic pages
To the moon would converse my tree
while I sat with new found glee
and thus they spoke of an ancient age
where they witnessed battles rage
No other place I would like to be
when the moon spoke to me
where my imagination broke from its cage
and I laughed like a knights happy page.
11:17 AM - 11/7/2006 -
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