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Out On The Porch In November
As the northerly chill does blow
And Ginko's yellow leaves lay
Like oil paint orke upon the ground
I wait for that moment of truth
That comes from above
Will my heart be glad that He spoke?
Or will it be ashamed _wearing sack cloth robe?
The red burgundy leaves of the Japanese Maple
Weep like blood longing for His arrival
As the gold of Japanese Magnolia turns to brown
Will it be on a day like today
When he calls come home my child?
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