3.4.92
There is no money could compensate
for walking the fox on a frosty night
when dawning cock-crows hang upon the air
And charge you not I would for loss
of cats with fleas and dog that growls
and perfumed scents that fill the breeze
and friends and swaying rowan trees
and butterflies and such as these
For money could never compensate
for pleasantness small and pleasures great
which flood my mind in grand estate
to make life worth the living
copyright 1992 Charlotte Peters Rock
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Monday, 19 November 2007
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