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A self-ordained professor’s tongue

Too serious to fool . . . . .

Bob Dylan




I dreamed I rode beneath the clouds

Above the rooftops of the town

And I rode fast and I rode long

Over forest, lake and lawn.

What I saw then, I’d not before

The chimneys cold, the open doors

A thousand voices shout in pain

“What once has been shall be again”

“We’ll now ignore the self-ordained

And look instead to God the king

The still,small voice, the word serene.”




Copyright 2016

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