Blue-eyed Bolla

When We Had Souls

In Buxton, when a balmy breeze

Sometimes, politely sways the trees

And clouds decide to part and melt

To let us know how spring once felt...

 

We dance, like dervish in a dream,

Beneath the sun, as she does stream

In rays, that warm our blighted bones.

And all those graceless gripes and groans

 

(That winter wrung from us, when snow

Dug in, like war, and would not go)

Disperse, like early morning mist

When we're caressed in spring and kissed

 

In Buxton, by a balmy breeze

We stand up tall as timeless trees

In touch with years when youth was king

And we had souls that still could sing.

 



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