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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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