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        Golden Stone

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Close by a lonely railway bridge

A house stands all alone

Glowing in the sunlight

Its walls of golden stone

Beyond a slumb’ring hamlet

Where green woodpecker calls

Hidden in the woodland

As autumn leaves quiet fall

Clouds blown in from westwards

Bring the short, sharp showers

A pause amidst the sunshine

Of soft September hours.

Winding lanes show vistas

Of valleys set below

Within the rolling Cotswolds

Where life remains still slow.

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