On Dreams of Flowers
03Oct08
In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with dreams.
The years passed, and not always quickly.
Many nights we dreamed of roses.
When they finally arrived, we could not believe our luck!
Then a question: what will we dream of now?
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Filed under: Dissonance, Dream, Longing, Memory, The Autumn Garden | Leave a Comment
Tags: Dreams, Flowers, Rosed
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