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The River Of Pigeons

A place to my thoughts that remains ever near
The River of Pigeons so far north of here
In fancy i can hear the nesting birds sing
When the old fields are in their wildflowers of the Spring.

By ditches and hedgerows by night and by day
The river from the hills ever babbles it's way
To the bigger rivers to the saltwater shore
In a voice destined to live on forever-more.

Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways i still do enjoy
From Nature we learn something new every day
We never stop learning as some like to say.

The song of the robin in my thoughts i do hear
And the pipe of the song thrush melodious and clear
Does often come to me from fields far away
When the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May.

Our links to the past beyond me to explain
And good memories of what was in us does remain
Till the Reaper claims the life from us whenever that will be
With what i say here many may well agree.

We live in the now and time ticking on fast
Though in our mind we retain our good times of the past
And with such happy memories how can i be poor
Of the River of Pigeons known as Annagloor.

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