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The Gift


As he stands silently and in awe
The star shines brightly above him,
Snow falls softly by him
Gently grazing his face,
The Christmas Trees surround him
They are softly covered
In a bed of white crisp snow,
He holds tightly to his drum
As he knows his time has come,
His hands tremble
As he begins to play
The gentle music of the drum
To soothe the soul of a king

By Julia




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