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March 2015

Dream a Dream

The cradle rocked
gently as the breeze
I slip into
a deep sleep,
not knowing where
my dreams might
lead.

Upon a hill I lay
the mist comes alive and dances with me.
As light as a feather
as smooth as jazz,
I dance between the
trees.

I left no
footprints but
only my soul
to keep.

© 2015 Faviola M.
Franklin High School
Franklin, NC
Grade 10

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