Set piece: Red air, pinkish sink, rose aura,
and she walks in and the curtains quiver
from a fan that we can't see, but Dora
takes a moment to chill, and you shiver:
She's stunning, eh? A real nymph on the screen,
and she reaches for a cup from the pool
that cuts before us, with waters pristine,
and our Dora stands in the golden cool:
Of sunbands lilting down to lift the waves
from a staid grace to an airy coolness,
Dora takes counsel, as she dips and saves
each clear memory, to our dreams clueless:
These are the breaks, whether Sun, Moon or Free–
they leave us to Luck; we must learn to be.

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