Faith Can move Mountains?

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In ancient woodland Oak

The ache of hope

Is hanging in the air

In wisps of smoky mists

Of possibilities that fill

The hilly ground

In mounds surrounding

Streams which run around

In dreams of could be fact

If only people crept towards

The mountain side and wept

Instead of calling those old bones

Of sacred monumental earth

To heed the heel of man

 

 

 

© K J barr

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