Poetry

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FROM THE TOP OF THE HILL FIELDS OF GREEN COULD BE SEEN,FURTHUR DOWN A PUMP MADE OF IRON WITH CUP TOO SUP,A BOREEN'S WALK WHERE
A STONE BRIDGR COULD TALK,WATER STREAMS KEEP FLOWING KEEPS ON FLOWING SEEMS FOREVER GOING,A ROAD AWAY CAN WALK OR STAY SOME
BRAMBLES AT ROAD'S PATH,WHERE BIRDS MAY NEST AND HIDE INSIDE
THIS ROAD NO CARS CAN TRAVEL UPON,ITS A WALKER'S WAY THAT HAILS
EACH DAY,A SUNNY BREEZE THE SKY COULD SEIEZE AND THAT'S A DAY
IT WILL SURELY PLEASE,FROM DAWN TILL DUSK THE SKY WAS BLUE GOOD
WEATHER STAYED AND SUMMERTIME ITSELF REPLAYED,GOD GIVES AWAY EACH DAY THE INNER MAN MAY HAIL GOD'S PLAN,SO LIVE EACH DAY
AS THOUGH IT WERE YOU'RE LAST ONE,FOR SOMEDAY YOU'LL BE RIGHT
MY SON,NOW AMEN HAVE GONE,ANON.
Joe

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