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April 13, 2014
When one by one
friends leave the shore,
and head off to
the great azure,
and the unused prayer book
becomes our friend,
and to a Christmas carol,
an ear we lend.
We remember now
elders words of gold.
‘Enjoy it love,
for you’ll soon be old.’
How right their lines
with time, ring true.
as to another friend
we wave adieu.
It’s all over in a
whisker’s boast.
In no time at all,
we turn into toast.
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