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Past's Prologue
The trees still sentinel stood
their green leaves whispering
rustling gently in the wood
in the same soft breeze
and I know some summer birds
sang in their canopy
a requiem without words
'neath the same blue sky
that through every passing year
quietly watched over me
safe within Ceredig's sphere
It has been too long a time
since our firs...
Tuesday 9th April 2019 2:20 pm
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