Let’s look at the gnomenclature.
They’re called sprites, elves, goblins, imps, brownies, dwarves, hobgoblins, archfiends, gremlins, pixies and trolls. They’re even referred to as runts, little folk and little people.
But the truth about gnomes is… they are not “vertically challenged”. They’re short. Really short. No matter their demeanor, even if they’re not being short with you, they are short.
So to start things off, we’ll ask you to delve into a short poem. Micro-poetry is considered any poem of fourteen lines or less. So a sonnet will suffice. A rhyming couplet would be nice. A tercet, or pi-ku, or haiku, a tanka, a quatrain, or… you know the forms. Find one that will allow you to say what you need to in a small way.
Among the topics you could consider:
the Eclipse, a return poem, something small… or whatever your muse will let you use. Write a little bit of a poem. And welcome back to the garden!
Walt’s Little Bit:
SMALL STUFF
“Don’t sweat the small stuff!”
It’s all small stuff.
All the bits and trifles
could go off like rifles if we let them.
Applying a spark to our powder
would only make our words louder,
but what we mean can be seen
in the smallest of terms.
Until we’re food for the worms,
we will get through what we need to do.
We’ve been giving sweat and tears for years,
but enough is enough. Don’t sweat the small stuff!
It’s all small stuff!
My unflexed wits have atrophied:
My garden has too many weeds.
I’ll lurk in here, but just to read
And let my muse again take seed.
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GO LONG
A game of catch stretched
from yard to yard.
The kids in the neighborhood,
all came to stand in line,
a chance to take part.
A football, and a Dad
as quarterback calling the shots.
The have and have nots
were all-star receivers.
Short to the trees.
Out near the bushes.
Long near the house next door.
The little guys made the trees.
Most went for the bushes.
I’d look to Dad and he’d wink.
That meant only one thing.
Don’t let the ball hit the house.
It rarely ever did. Go long.
*Returning to a moment with Dad
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No Gnomes in my garden, yet…but there are and have been angels:
ODE TO THE FORGOTTEN ANGEL
Once you stood proud amongst the rose and lavender.
Once you were the focus of this garden’s core.
But years have brought decay of mind and time.
Now, bound and cinched with weeds, you drown,
choking on tears that fall from heaven above,
while you sink into oblivion, lost to love.
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My angels have suffered the same fate, Linda. Sharp observation.
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Much beauty in the sadness. Beautifully penned, Linda.
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She danced with shadows
In altered light,
Through a dimensional slip
Into total darkness,
Her soul temporarily eclipsed,
Waiting to be rebirthed
Into brighter days.
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This paints a powerful scene, Mary. A wonderful contribution.
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Mary, it’s been a long time since I’ve read your poetry. This is BEAUTIFUL, and beautifully painful. WOW …
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Beautiful!
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Short Apology
it was a short retort
you know –
the kind that sounds
like a snort
but it’s not
more like a blurt
not intended to hurt
your feelings
but it did
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Love the short snippets and the rhyme, Candy. No apology needed! 😉
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Hear, hear!
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Well expressed and so true, Candy.
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RETURN TO POEMIA
He reverts back to where he started,
now a ghost of his former self.
A crack had developed in his resolve,
and solving cryptic word puzzles
never allowed him to free his mind
in the ways he was used to.
His poetic hand was worn and tired
and he had retired from poemic pursuits.
But the new recruits didn’t know enough
to check his myriad of work.
A once “big deal” had gotten sick of lurking
in the shadows; he thought
he ought to get back to expressing
what his heart wrongly guessed was best left unsaid!
It was better to come back from the dead!
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THIS. IS. WHO. YOU. ARE.
And we are all thankful for it!
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Love this, Walt!
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Pingback: SMALL STUFF – THROUGH THE EYES OF A POET'S HEART
no coincidences
my singer aunt
drifted on a final
pure note a short
time ago and to-
night gnomes she
loved peek from
your garden –
hello
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Sorry to hear of the passing of your loved one. Happy to find a “pearl” here in the garden. 🙂
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A strikingly poignant poem, Pearl. Hope our gnomes bring you a bit of comfort.
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My Aunt had gnomes
in her front yard – lined
up as a strange squadron
At six -confused them with
grottoed Madonna next door –
wondering what it was my
mysterious Aunt practiced
recently she left for good
yet here I see her in your
garden – gnomes smile as
would she …
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Why Pearl, so good to find your poem this morning. Love the visual this provides. Welcome!
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Hi there and hi to one all all – couldn’t resist a pass at “gnomenclature” besides the lil guys were calling. Enjoy everyone 😊☀️
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I liked the first one and love this second one. I like gnomes but don’t have any. I need to remedy that next year.
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Pearl, your Aunt must have been awesome!
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Aaaaaaand how do we keep from getting inundated with e-mails? Every time someone likes or responds to anything I’ve commented on, I get an e-mail notification. Help! 😀
Note: I have not checked “Notify me of new comments via email,” nor “Notify me of new posts via email.”
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I’ve clicked off any e-mail related tabs in the dashboard. There’s always a few start-up glitches, sorry for the inconvenience. And thanks for being my springboard. I won’t know what to fix if I do not know there’s a problem
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Thank you! How many fix stuff as quickly as you do??? HUG!
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I just start flipping switches. Eventually I find the solution. Even a blind squirrel finds a nut from time to time! 😀 HUG right back to ya!
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😀 !
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Well, it didn’t work as well as I thought. I’m still getting a ton of e-mail notifications. I guess there happened to be a lull right after you did your tweaking. I keep trying to figure out if there is something I can do from my end, but I sure don’t see anything.
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poem
alone shalom
stroming roaming homing
blome loam dome tome
moaning combing chroming
foam cyclone
gnome
Darlene Franklin
Meant to be center spaced and shaped. . .
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Love the poem Darlene. That is the one flaw with this WordPress.com presentation. Shaped poems lose their formatting. But I can appreciate the effort that went into your piece!
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Pingback: Christina’s World | echoes from the silence
Well, maybe I can’t subscribe, but I can add my short poem. 😉
It’s a Pithy
“It’s pithy, your style”
he opined with a smile
(I thought he meant short – as in brief)
But much later I learned, to my grief,
he meant crusty and curt,
blunt and terse
maybe worse
(not merely
less long, more succinct,
as I had initially
thinked)
PSC /2017
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Oh man do I love this one! TOOOO cute and creative, PSC!
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Still working on the subscription, Pamela. I haven’t given up yet!
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haha, love it.
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Hmmm … I can’t comment on the poems that have been posted. There is “like” star, but no way for me to comment on individual poems. Also, I received notifications on comments intended for me, but out here on the site, I can’t figure out who is commenting on which poems. All poems and comments are lined up alike. The lil gnomes are giggling behind the scenes, as they mess with your garden tools! 😉
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I’m looking into the problem, Pard. Seems a few gremlins have infiltrated Gnomeville!
Does there show a comment counter under the title? If there is, click there to open comments. Also, make sure you open the post in its own page. The comments box will appear below. The design may change if it keeps presenting problems. I’m even battling the lack of the dashboard to manage this, but it is a work in process, so we’ll survive!
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I may have stumbled on a solution. Let me know if my manipulations have helped.
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It appears it has worked!
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Were you having the same problems, Paula?
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All of the comments were left-aligned, and not under the appropriate places. Now they show as “layers”.
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Looks alright then? Thank you for keeping me honest! 😉
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Okay, now there is a “reply” button on each comment. I’m replying to you, and hoping it goes to the right place. Fingers crossed!
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Woohoo! It works now! Thanks Paula and Walt!
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If you’re replying to me, you got me!
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Is this the party to whom I am speaking?
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And I didn’t hear any Ringy dingies!
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😀 !
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Funny.
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LOL And I tried to ‘subscribe’, but apparently wordpress does not like my email id. Yes, the gnomes are truly messing around here. 😀
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Same for me. Hope it gets straightened out.
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Had the same issue but I had to reset my log in password and it seems to work now.
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I’m glad. Everything seemed fine on this end. I suspected browser or setting problems. But I’ll keep watching for flaws.
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When Only One Falls
Such a small
thing —
barely able to catch
a glint of a candle’s flicker —
to be able to hold
such meaning
in that briefest of moments
before she brushes it
away.
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Love it, Mark, including the well-placed line breaks. (I have to admit that I often don’t “get” line breaks.) Glad to see you posting here!
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A snapshot in time, the briefest moment expressed perfectly, Mark.
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and not just anyone would have noticed. Love it
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Wow!
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Eclipsed By Peace
I didn’t watch the eclipse
rather I sat on the patio
and watched the twilight
sneak across the yard.
Strange shadows grew
the temperature dropped
crickets sang, the birds
were silent and still.
It was timeless for a time
tranquil, a little unreal
but a beau ideal of eternity.
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Lovely description, carrying the mood with the words.
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Sounds like a great sensory eclipse, Debi! And we didn’t need any funny glasses! Well done!
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Beautifully described…I did the same.
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In Short
Morning is morning: things happen
with your notice or not.
A boy with a basketball goal
is a heartbeat. The wind
is a fish fanning the koi pond.
A bed of zinnias
gives live birth to three goldfinches.
And so forth and so on.
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And so it goes, Barbara. What a beautiful glimpse of these moments, all bearing great significance to the world they occupy. Wonderful to read your words as it is with all who have returned. A much needed boost for sure!
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Oh my yes. Hear, hear!
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The like button doesn’t really do it for this poem. LOVE. That’s better.
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Oh, how beautiful! I love your play of words. I will read this again and again!
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Barbara, this is perfectly beautiful. Love that last line.
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CHRISTINA’S WORLD
Simply put,
her corner in life
was smaller
than most owned.
Yet, in the smallness, she had
more than she hoped for.
2017-08-22
P. Wanken
Inspired by Andrew Wyeth’s painting of the same name.
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Now, that’s a wonderful poem and inspiration. I knew you’d find your poet’s pen! 😉 Great return, Paula.
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Thanks! (And of course I would stumble back into the shadorma!)
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What a gem. The poem, and the poet. ❤
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“she had more than she hoped for.” Yes, God is so good to me.
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Or how about
A poeming I will go
A gnoming I will go
In the garden and at home a poeming I will go
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Teeheehee! So cute!
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A poeming I will go
A poeming I will go
Here and there and everywhere a poeming I will go.
–Darlene Franklin
I’d love to try. I’ll work on something a little more serious.
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Please do, Darlene! Good to see you join us!
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I like this one even better! The final line is fun to say.
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In the Garden
A bit of black earth
Underneath my fingernails
Shows I’ve been gardening
A bit of a smile
Flowing from my fingertips
Shows I’ve been poeming
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Cute!
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So true and you’ve captured it beautifully!
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*Smile*
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I hope to help keep that smile on your face, Connie. When we do what we love, it’s all smiles. Sweet poem!
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Yes. Perfect descriptions!
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Connie, such a great poem to walk back into the garden with.
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Amuse-bouche
Savored
with complimentary
words and wine
prepared for more
your relished kiss
delicious.
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Brilliant meter.
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Thanks, Misky! So nice to connect will you & others from the street again. (I tried to LIKE you comment, but can’t seem to do it. Hope that glitch gets fixed, as I’m sure there will be LOTS to LIKE as this site goes forward!)
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I use the WordPress app on my phone, and it has Like buttons and suchlike everywhere!! 👍🏻
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And deliciously presented, Patricia! It might be the wine, but is it getting warm in here? 😉
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Yummy!
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Delicious, indeed, Patricia!
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Delish poem
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MY GARDEN GNOMES
They carry garden tools
but live in the house.
They have a job to do
and it’s not gardening.
They are my Finder Gnomes.
‘Silly,’ says my friend. ‘They
aren’t alive. It’s your angels.’
All I know is, when I lose
anything, I ask them.
Then it turns up.
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I must try this!
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Go with what works for you, Rosemary! What ever it is, it will be in the last place you look! Nicely done!
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LOL
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Weird, in a wonderfully worded way. 😉
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Haha, I had a friend who had a saint for that. I like what Walt said.
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Awesome!
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ECLIPSE, August 21, 2017
red crescent-moon sun
crickets chirp mid-afternoon
my nation looks up
#seventeensyllablesfortwentyseventeen
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Oh, you really caught the moment perfectly!
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Thanks Misk!
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Loving your “seventeens” all along, but they’ll seem more special here. Where they belong. Another “Good” poem!
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Aww, shucks Pard …
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Brilliant!
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Thank you!
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Something we can agree on… wish it would continue…
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Me too, friend.
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I love your poems, Marie Elena! This is beautiful!
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Oh my. THANK YOU. That means so much, coming from a wonderful poet such as yourself, Linda. ❤
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Love this… saw it on your FB post.
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Damon! Good to see you! And thank you, sir.
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It’s a Small Matter
it felt real,
as real as a shadow,
or a wrinkle
across the water.
dreams feel like that.
this one was bright
as an orange lamp,
and the sky was smooth
and waiting.
I dreamt
that I couldn’t sleep.
It was a small matter.
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Sleep problems are not such a little matter for me, but that’s what keeps these nights interesting! 😉 Thanks for starting up off, Misk! (See, told you I would!)
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😀 I look forward to many more “smalls ” in the future!
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Read my entry above! It’s all small stuff. And although the Gnomes take prominence in the title, the “garden” remains the thing and our muses will be given a good going over, Marilyn. I look forward to offering them!
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NIcely said!
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I dreamt
that I couldn’t sleep. hahaha, that really does happen.
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The imagery in this is awesome. My favorite lines are “it felt real,/as real as a shadow,/or a wrinkle/across the water.
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Not so small, that one.
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But I was dreaming that I couldn’t sleep, so I was actually asleep …
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