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Sunday, October 21, 2007

Golden Days
A golden sun, an azure sky,
A golden carpet Decks the forest floor.
And boughs above,held promise thereof countless millions more.
The air was brisk,
A gentle breeze Swirled flecks of gold that showered from above.
What luxury to live Among these maple trees,
And walk among their winding ways
To find such joy in golden days.

Bob Johnson
Athens, OH
rjohn965@columbus.rr.com

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