i walked a poets walk
under the quiet Trees of time
everything passed through mind
except for reason or rhyme
and the Trees began to dance
and the Sky began to spin
i was caught up in a trance
and it was still yet to begin
in floated a Spectre
holding flowers: a golden hue
in floated a Spectre;
i could see that She was you
and we danced with the Trees
and we spun with the Sky
and while we swam through the Air-
we didn't quite ask why, but
We sang a lovers song
in the lively forest of life
A happy tree husband
and his happy tree wife.
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