I love to climb a hill
And gaze at what's below.
The purity of the air
Filters through my nose.
I feel as if I have been transported
To another deminsion in time.
I would lay for hours beneath the sky,
Never caring when I had to rise.
Those were days of long ago,
When youth knew the timbers of my bones.
When each breath brought new vigor,
And tiredness came and rest beckoned.
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Love ya!
Jane