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Clara In July

The air it is warm without the least sign of chill
As i stand by the steel cross on old Clara Hill
As entranced by the beauty on i am gazing down
On the fields and houses of Millstreet Town

To the taste buds of the mouth such an appetizing treat
Whortleberries the tiny blue fruits of the heather delicious to eat
Of how happy i feel the words i do not have to say
Of the beauty around me on this sunny Summer's day

To my left Kippagh, Toorbonia, Caherbarnagh and Gortavehy with the face of stone
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Saturday, October 21, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: mountain
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from 'rhymeonly'
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