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Lavender
Sweet sister, touch my weary eye
with your gentle compassionate hand,
breathe a balmy melancholy sigh,
dispatch me to that soft sepulchral land
where my soul will roam through meadows lone,
in enchanted caverns search its precious gifts
and in silent dens hope upon a dawn
when from these lands midnight gloom shall lift.
How intoxicating is your fragrance sweet!
On its wings I fly to distant shores,
to noisy markets full of spice and mead
and magic spells and potions that will lure
a tired soul into oblivion,
a dreamless night, dark as obsidian.
GloPoWriMo Day 9 - a sonnet
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