Your Hills
These hills of yours so fresh and green,
Though sandy they may be,
Remind me of when I met you
And things that used to be.
The fun we had while young and gay,
The family we did raise,
The rides we'd take each summer day,
The work, the love, the praise.
The hills remind me of these things,
And each thought brings a tear,
Soon I'll hear the Angels sing,
And always have you near.
Cile Beer
written 1975
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