Such a Day

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misty-morning

Such a Day

I’d rather be upon the hillside,
as the night mist rolls away,
and watch the sky run into scarlet,
at the start of such a day.

I’d rather be beside the rushes,
where the lonely peeper pleads,
and the flashing red wing black bird
sings his soul into the reeds.

I’d rather be within the woodland,
on some wild and winding way,
to have a talk with solitude,
and see what he has to say.

I’d rather be where misty willow,
goes to stand down by the stream,
dip his toe into the water,
and dream his willow dream.

I’d rather be here in the meadow,
as the fireflies come to play,
and watch the sky run into scarlet,
at the end of such a day.

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