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Some times I dream of days that are long past

Like clouds that shift and do not last.

The fleeting days are here and gone

Like words that made a beautiful song.

Like the greening grass that comes with spring

And turns to brown on winter's wing.

Like robins hopping across the lawn

And chirping only a robin's song.

Like trees that in the springtime bear

The budding leaves that are sprouting there.

Like the crops that are sown in springtime days,

Later comes the crops of corn, soy beans and hay.

All these things that I oft times see

Looking around me they surely please me.

Like creeks that sparkle like the dew,

Like long lost friends that come in view

with the happy days when old friends meet,

Such wonderful times are hard to beat!

Oris M. Gentry

November 8, 1994