Beyond the heathered moor lying between me and my discontent, A fractured dream or two may linger brazen in this span of time. Intruding memories like drifting snow can cause new joy to pause, And make me hesitate to keep on living and my words to rhyme. Perhaps tomorrow dreams shall cease and break like shattered glass, Or scatter like the seeds filter through a noonday breeze. Those haunting fragments of impotent love forever lost Will not dim the love that someone new now shows to me. Tonight I'll dream a dream that's not of you Tonight I'll dream a dream that can come true. copyright May 2000 Judith Anne Labriola
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