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Dream Wench

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A ghostly pirate moves thru the trees

I watch him on my hands and knees

he shifts upon the slightest breeze

now there's no one left to please

Why can't he let me touch his face ?

I'd wear my finest Ivory lace

He'll vaporise when I'm near his place

perhaps his game..is just the chase

They say he died in '93

that's a hundred years to me

I wish just once he would not flee

It would be my final plea

After that I'd sail with him

always youthful always slim

future bright and never grim

give my gown a little trim

So entwined not separated

ghostly dances now have mated

parting ways are never slated

a hungry heart is rarely sated

C July 13 2004 Dream Wench (Colorado Valley)

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