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Old Friends Away the wind would take me, To a far off distant land. Of meadows of green and skies of blue, no adult would understand. Softly my dreams would take me, upon a yonder course. Of misty morning skies of grey, upon my big white horse. Alas! I have aged and my hiding place is gone. I wish that I were young again, So I may carry on. But hush, what is that creeping as I close my eyes to sleep? The merry friends of childhood, have come back for me to greet! Posted 2/19/02 |
"Old Friends" by Tatjanna Miller |
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