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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...

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