My earliest recollections

by - miercuri, februarie 15, 2012

In the small pink room with roses,
I hear a gentle voice coming from my memories.
It is that gentle and soft voice that all of use we hear...
It is the voice that lead us to silver dreams.
They are the magic letters from ancient fairy tales,
full with the dust of stolen moments.
At the timber window, lie a little doll with golden cheeks,
she is looking with fear at the memories chest.
White flashes spin fast around me, the dream collapses, 
time is moving like a whirl.
Oh! present is here and tommorow it is the unknown future.

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