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Henry Hughes
Poems
Feb 2022
Crossin’ the brae
I saw her in town yesterday,
She crossed the hill o’er the brae.
She didn’t see me, or so she played;
‘Twas only her son did look my way.
A young man with eyes so blue,
With wavy hair and ginger too.
Often time folks wondered why,
He never had her husbands eyes.
Written by
Henry Hughes
27/M/Ireland
(27/M/Ireland)
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