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In the meadow of my dreams,
things are not as they seem
I can always see the sun
Care-free to play laugh and run,
The meadow is my special place,
when I go to sleep
I visit every night
My secrets it does keep,
The flowing willow trees,
swaying gently in the breeze
The yellow sunflowers
smiling up at me,
Beautiful blue skies,
Never any rain
Happiness and joy
Never sorrow or pain,
Alas I have to wake up,
face the day once again
trapped inside this body,
unable to speak or see
How I long for the meadow,
where I can be free.
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by H Brown
"East Meadow Massacre"
the Snowman had watched all winter
he knew their habits well
he knew which ones would run
and which ones
In the meadow, where the daisies bend their heads,
Against the coolness and exuberance,
Of morning stillness, dew drenched,
by Jane Allyson
Warm and mellowed out,
We lie down in rich grass,
Spikes of prickly blades,
Prick our faces,
Like natures pincushion.
Buttercu ps
by Raven Storme
In the meadow of my dreams,
things are not as they seem
I can always see the sun
Care-free to play laugh and run,
The meadow
Meadowland
Bluebirds sing their melodies.
Butterflie s weave and dive.
Dewdrops cling to leaves and stems
On the hills at sunrise.
Bright
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Poetry: In the meadow
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