At seven, when I go to bed,
I find such pictures in my head:
Castles with dragons prowling round.
Gardens where magic fruits are found:
Fair ladies prisoned in a tower
Or lost in an enchanted bowers
While gallant horsemen ride by streams
That border all this land of dreams
I find, so clearly in my head
At seven, when I go to bed.
Ar seven, when I wake again.
The magic land. I seek in rain;
A chair stands where the castle frowned
The
carpet
hides the garden ground.
No fairies trip across the floor
Boots, and not horsemen, flank the door.
And where the blue streams rippling ran
Is now a bath and water-can;
I seek the magic land in vain
Ar seven, when I wake again.
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then what .............
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Answer: oh wow that's a really good poem ! you should make more just like this but uh not to be rude i dont see the question but if you made that poem just know that god had blessed you with talent and you should be proud of it hope u have a good day ^_^
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