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CECILIA WRIGHT

Over the hills and far away
Stood a pity little town
With a flock of lazily grazing cattle

The farms were been tilled
And the meadow a colourful green

Fathers dug on
and mothers knitted more

The children hopped about in glee
Their thoughts a colourful treat
But nearer and nearer a storm loomed

Come on Cecilia…get inside
Its windy and threatening

The dark clouds had emerged faster
Clearing all patterns of the bright green into grey

Families huddled closer
Into the bossoms of their head

The winds howled heavily
As the trees shook violently

Oh no! My newest doll…she thought
And into the storm she ran

Grabbing and thrusting to her chest
A dirty little doll

But that tree had already snapped
Broken and fallen…

Right on the little Cecilia Wright.

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