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Keeping Cultured / Meditations / Poetry

A Dreamer at Her Desk

I will lull myself into a peaceful rest with my words,

As a mother reads a child to sleep, so I shall write myself into tranquility.

I can’t sleep, but my mind can find refuge

In the soothing sound of the “s”

And the enveloping warmth of the “w.”

I will wash my tired nerves in deep memories

Laced in lead letters.

And if not physically retiring to sleep,

I shall escape into the dreamlike caverns of my mind.

Awake in a dreamland.

Blanketed in the glowing diaphanous world

of my internal comforts.

Eyes open, seeing elsewhere.

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