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A Doubtless Dream (after Keats)
by Deborah Russell

This tender autumn night, I am no stranger
to tragic love nor the countless, careless ways
my heart has dashed and know not
what flowers bloom at my feet, neither
the number of trees, I might pass

The grip of my eye holds fast to a dream
that survives and is destined to surpass -
to know love in all its beauty
and to know its everlast . . .

Through this dark and dreary Valley I travel
with the light of a doubtless dream
I am beautiful and eagle swift
I am love and all its bliss -
I am a soul fountain of full-throated
sparrow songs

This moon and all these stars, shine for me,
and there is but one - just one, that smiles
and nods and the rest?  The rest were never
born for death but for immortal poetry.


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