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There
seemed to be just about every hue
from green to flame, from purple to blue,
and there was the sun, a disc of gold
slung like a jewel above the wold.
As I watched a mist seemed to swirl and sway
like a bridal veil on a wedding day
and a following cloud quite savagely bare
seemed exactly the shade of a bridegroom's wear.
In
another moment a burst of rain
hurled like a shot at my window pane.
I turned from the gloom-ridden sight with a sigh,
not a hope in hell would my washing dry.
Joyce
Eaglestone.
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