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Rated: E · Poetry · Entertainment · #1159221
A glimpse into the past, and loves that lives on.
In this quiet glen,
where folks from way back when,
all gather here to spend,
the years until time ends,

Beneath bright, moonlit skies
and whipper wills soft cries,
each night two lovers rise,
and dance a sad reprise,

hope sparkles in her eyes
while their two spirits fly,
he sings her lullabies,
of love that never dies

Sarah Bella Springer,
let our kisses linger,
gently squeeze my fingers
as I hold you close,

Let's dance away the evening,
till morning bids our leaving,
then I'll whisper that I love you most.

She was but seventeen,
in eighteen eighty three,
when true love came to be,
and filled her heart with glee,

but spinal fever came,
and quenched thier passions flames,
cruel fate revoked his claim,
to share with her, his name.

And in the following year,
he also disappeared,
Another wagoneer,
lost in the vast frontier,
for reasons still unclear.

Until they found his bones,
and brought his body home,
no longer left alone,
from the one love he'd known.

They laid him very near,
his Sarah Bella dear,
and if you wander near,
their graves at night you'll hear...


Sara Bella Springer,
let your kisses linger,
gently squeeze my fingers
as I hold you close,

we'll dance away the evenings,
till heaven bids our leaving,
then I'll whisper that I love you most.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Artis


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