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My Grandmother's Swing
Where we'd sit for hours,
To hear the birds sing,
And watch the fledgelings soar.

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She'd swing so slowly,
My head upon her lap,
Ever so slightly,
While I took my nap.

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I miss my grandmother's swing,
From so long ago,
I was so young,
And she was growing old.

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My grandmother's swing
Has long since gone,
Along with my Grandmother,
But not for long.

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For I will be with her,
In her arms once more,
My head upon her lap,
And we will soar.

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Like the fledgelings
Learning to fly,
We'll be in Heaven,
She and I.

Written By One Missouri Country Girl January 06, 2008

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Dreams By Margie Harrell


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