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East Wind


On the rugged and dour moor
I walked a wet and windy tour.

Rain fell in a steady downpour,
Making those at home think : "Oh, poor!".
They do not know the driving force
Which keeps me on through heath and gorse
Crossing paths with red deer and horse.

They don't love it so, harsh and coarse.

To what I can see they are blind,
So I hide it all in my mind.


Sophie
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