Candlelight changed everything in her;
the beams cast long and slender shadow
over the graves, and the flickering flame
held out a hand to her.
But there was something inside her
that told her where she was going.
On the hillside beside the village,
she saw the ruin
of the music playing in his head.
She would go there
and see for herself;
like slipping into a painting
A harpist lived among them.
The flat, wide beach wa...
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He's not a beatnik,
not even a chance for that.
it's a marvelous atmosphere
looking up at the ceiling,
cellophane, tinsel created stars
a most remarkable machine!
It was clearly a mistake.
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