Mild the mist upon the hill
Telling not of storms tomorrow;
No, the day has wept its fill,
Spent its store of silent sorrow.
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Beautiful, beautiful poem. So tenderly and wonderfully crafted and executed. Superb imagery.
A beautiful creation nicely embellished with poetic rhyme and rhythm.............
I am a child once more, And 'neath my father's sheltering roof.....how often have I felt like this!