Whispers of the Past
On some misty morning when the ground is wet and still
When clouds obscure the forest and creeks flow the rill
Go sacredly and slowly and you will surely hear
Whispers of the past from the ghosts of yesteryear
They talk of things that happened long before your birth
and soon they'll disappear when the mist falls to earth
You'll know that they are near by the rustle on the grounds
Watch in silent wonderment as the ghosts go on their rounds
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