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remembering the calves

    i remember the calves in my childhood days
      when we spent time with them n gave them the hay
      when they licked on our fingers n stared in our eyes
      they sure were so lovely and we were so wise

      i remember the haylofts and the old cow shed
      the places we played and what granfer said
      i still can recall the springs on the heath
      were i grew up cutting my teeth

      i remember the brickyard and the farm house
      we had to be as good as gold n quiet as a mouse
      though we played with the gypsys and we ran on the moors
      oh to be young then when we knew it all

      i remember the artist who painted our house
      with roses around the windows and stable doors
      i remember the smell of his turpentine brush and the colours he used then
      we were just kids and full of trust

      i remenber the hillsides and the canford estates
      where the lord of the manor would open his gate
      i remember the planes that flew from hurn
      oh we were keen then and had a craving to learn


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