skip out on the dew swept lawns
my child my child
there where the orchids wild
endorse the moon
my child my child
there where the ghostly
hum no tune but bright angels commend
my child where the ancient harps
are ringing
there beyond Time
and belllike, singing
pass from the world so dark and grim
pass through a Dream that has no end
pass from the fleeting, Born of Him
my child my child
mary angela douglas 27 november 2022
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