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~ Poetry by me ~
The Fountain
A jet of water, upwards in a gush
above the pool was rising with a rush,
as if to reach the heavens was its aim;
it kissed the sky, and bent, and downwards came.
A mighty labor for a second´s bliss,
yet still it never ceased to reach and miss.
So does my soul for Asgard´s splendor yearn,
but must from shining heights to Earth return.
© 2009 Michaela
Macha
- This poem is in the
Common Domain and may be freely distributed
provided it remains unchanged, including copyright notice and this
License -
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