The grand Poobah
of Genies
came to visit
you last night –
as blue as
several shades of sky –
sweet scheme
of azure light –
a dream you’d
hoped to have
but didn’t
dare to think you could –
but here he
was to reassure
that dream
was here for good:
two senses of
“for good” of course:
the first
that it would stay –
the second
that it was a boon –
a virtue – to
allay
the doubts
you’d had about your life,
the fear your
soul was lost
in random
clouds of random strife:
for which you’d
thought the cost
was far too
great to calculate
or meet, but
now you saw
your sadness
lose its place to love,
and love become the law.
.
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