Born of a Dream

From destruction is born the new day, never wrong, never right,
Still we should listen to the Good Folk as they shed down upon us
Skins of Wisdoms ancient, weaving as they are their tales by the light.

Born of a dream, weaved upon a melody of waves,
First there were three, soon sprung nine fair maidens
From the Freshest of springs, bringing the songs they were born to sing.

poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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