In the morning, a faint light enters our wooden heaven
Chides with its tendrils the sleeping sheets,
Whispers a secret of cedar-love, of bread-crumbs and tea.
The silence outside, a lullaby to drowsy senses.
Though pine-trees purr and dragonflies march,
In our cocoon of drunken stupor, we sleep.The Thought of waking up visits my dream
Laughs on the swing outside, tied to the oak-tree.
Chides with its tendrils the sleeping sheets,
Whispers a secret of cedar-love, of bread-crumbs and tea.
The silence outside, a lullaby to drowsy senses.
Though pine-trees purr and dragonflies march,
In our cocoon of drunken stupor, we sleep.The Thought of waking up visits my dream
Laughs on the swing outside, tied to the oak-tree.
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