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Abstract
<p id="6ab0">From last night’s</p><p id="b00b">dream I did not wake</p><p id="b977">as others did. I did</p><p id="335d">not shake the moon-tide</p><p id="4f0a">dust from sleepy eyes,</p><p id="7404">star-blanket’s warmth</p><p id="8fde">with morning sighs.</p><p id="fd6d">From the ember’s</p><p id="49fd">sm # Options oldering coal I</p><p id="eaad">did not rouse, and</p><p id="01df">yet my soul</p><p id="0dba">strained from my</p><p id="6d7f">case to set me free</p><p id="c934">to wing above</p><p id="a158">my shell carefree.</p><p id="4712"><i>Copyright © 2019 Bridget Webber. All rights reserved</i></p></article></body>A poem
From last night’s
dream I did not wake
as others did. I did
not shake the moon-tide
dust from sleepy eyes,
star-blanket’s warmth
with morning sighs.
From the ember’s
smoldering coal I
did not rouse, and
yet my soul
strained from my
case to set me free
to wing above
my shell carefree.
Copyright © 2019 Bridget Webber. All rights reserved
