Spring Gardens Sleep Dead TonightThe white picket fenceThat once stood so tallNow broken and chippedAnd ready to fallThe sweet balmy breezeNow a cold wind, stingingThe church steeple bellsLong ago stopped ringingCobwebs in the atticNever cleared awayAnd the silk and lace dressNow faded and grayThe blazing fireThat once burned... More..
Susan Dillon
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