A Hill; Shrouded In Cloud
Let's take a stroll. Mindful
Each hilly step
But leads, ever closer
To a saint's rest.
Cloud pillowed; above
Herd's grassed request.
You, I. That world-detached.
If yet fleshed round.
In Heaven; whilst short of
Breathing our last.
There to stay. Til hunger
Catches up fast!
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