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Jeely Jors and Welly Rings ©

Danny Reynolds
Dalton in Furness, England
2007

Have not we all at some sad time
picked the gravel from the windfall lolly?
Left the boot in the boggy trench,
while the clean white sock
made its bed in the mud?

And wished for the tadpoles
acceleration.
That short gestation
still too long.
“Grow legs grow!”
and
“fall off tails!”

Have not we all at some sad time
Seen something sublime
beyond sadness’ perception?
For of such things
Are Happy Days made.
The days when nostalgia’s
foundations were laid.



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