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Gold

A tree of gold
As memories it holds
The river below flows
And the gentle wind blows

On this beautiful day
The kids come out to play
You hear the patter of their boots
Along the trees ground and roots

We hold on to the yester-years
the happy times and sadness tears
Together forever, us friends
Thick and thin, till the end.

Based on a picture of a pot of gold in a tree. Done for my Creative Writing Class on October 10th 2007

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