Poetry

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We stood on a hill top high
With the golden sun up in the sky
We bathed in each others company
And the time passed idly by

Below us stood the village mill
Wheel turned by the silver water
While on the hill a young man stood
Kissing the Miller’s daughter

And as we stood upon that hill
Beneath that glorious summer sun
My heart was lost to her forever
But for the girl it was only fun

So there would be no love affair
No reciprocation of desire
She was just a pretty butterfly
Flitting from flower to flower

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