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 Sep 2012 Synne
Thomas L Holland
There, where  sacred rainbows
touch that far distant land
where the black crows
fly over the purple hill
and sweep and spiral thru high clouds
calling with lonely shrill
eternal voice-

There my fretful soul can rest
and my body abide
upon Nature's breast
where my spirit can sweep and soar
and fly high and high and higher still
until it gains entrance at heaven's door
and finds rest for evermore.

— The End —