Wednesday 18th July

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The cobbled streets of old

Filled with stories to be told

Many tireless footsteps trod

With many shoes to be shod

Down the lane, or up the hill

Hanging baskets, standing still

Quiet moment of reflection

Sunny view of perfection

You’d go walking here and there

Lost in a world, without care

Happy days and innocence

But life has lost its permanence

.

Missing my boy

Darling Angel son

xxxxxx