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Dec 2012
The dust plate plays havoc
its enough to unsound the light,
around the mountain top again.
Journeying south to balm the disappointment,
asked why and further marching down
the parade sees no end,
just a murmur.
A sigh left unsaid,
again stated it sounds different
as we echo to the Northern valleys,
where icicles lampoon our
uncovered heads.
topaz oreilly
Written by
topaz oreilly  england
(england)   
  1.7k
   Hilda, Timothy and BarelyABard
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