as i stand agaze
at the fortress of refuge
how strangely, these days
i savor the deluge
a dream far too real
in this tempest i'm couched
raging rose-petal pinwheel
that is felt, but not touched
it spins as it pleases
cream confection'ry bliss
such warm fragrant breezes
best of times, reminisce
at the eye and center
stares your face in some trance
tells so precious little
save, gracious acceptance
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