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■ The oak
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-05-06 | | It's a stroll down the hedge path this walk we gently take each breath to hand the morning band that journeys life's parade. It's here in soft whipers that leaf to tree marks the points where life embarks on a constant journey between and through the thorns and nettles the gentle hue till soon the path trodden gone like a melody, a distant song We've made our way by thicket and mire to attain the truth Of our hearts desire. Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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