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Beneath the Boughs

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Courtesy of S.Q

Beneath the Boughs

Beneath the boughs here I sit,

Watching the waters stream by

Jagged rocks dot yon river bed,

Yet the waters ripple on.

Winding, meandering, undeterred,

Directly on their way, they go.

Discouraged not, nor wearied,

As o’er stony hurdles, they flow.

For, like us, these waters do move onward,

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