The dew, on the grass of the mansion house lawn, suggests the steadiness of life. The road is lined both sides by an avenue of trees.
In just a few weeks time I will be taking prayers, with the brothers on blended knees.
It is the heartache of the hurt, might I boldly say the painful reign of the cold lost love. I don't wish to dish the dirt, for it is solid gold love stories which I wish to be told.
We make each other smile, we go the extra mile, we dress ourselves in style, as down life's random paths we file.
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