Reflections
I sat under a weeping willow and dreamt,
With a silver pond just inches from my feet.
The branches drooped in front of me like hair,
Or like arms that tried to reach out in care.
I saw a swan skimming on the surface,
With plumes of white and an air of grace.
When you looked down at your reflection,
You saw an ugly duckling.
The mirror was a misconception
Of ripples in the pond.
If you stopped to clear this deception,
And stare in the still of the silver pond,
Your beauty will appear in the depths of my transparent eyes.
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