Er’ sun lay a’low…
Break’th through, thine morn’ chill…O’ heaven sent a’warmth…a’glow …
Mine kin laborious reaped thine ancient fields…
I find such harvest a’laying now…giving forth life O’ young…so cold…
‘mongst thy mortal leaves, those wilting things…a’falling free thine branches sleep now to precious will…
Bless thou thee a’ rise…it d’oeth console…
Thou enchanted beams O’ hope…set thy fire…rest my weary bones now I…content as all is still…
A’ set ‘or winter’s long frozen nights…as thy moon bleeds cold upon the land greyish…bold…
Come now…tell me a story…mythical magic muse ‘or free will…
Come now…tell thine heart falls as the leaves in the light of this blessed autumn morning soul…
T’is those stories of old…B’loved Grandmother…O’ thy warmest praise…has’t revealed…
Thou dreams…sent from above…harvested happiness t’was gratefully received…now stowed…
O’r come thy wintertide’s…let thus thine own be done…O’r we’ve been blessed…thy love…our souls…fulfilled.
Poetry
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