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christmas poem

ich stehe im kalten grauen Wetter
meine zutreffende Liebe von ihrem Kissen stieg
unter dem Erntemond
dort durch das Fenster im alten Haus
Sitzen in seinem Schalthebel, der Ihren Tee wartet
sehr gut Sie Liberale
aus dem Fenster heraus ein Meer der grünen Bäume
diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
Wille schimmern Sie auf dem Meer?

 



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