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Way above the landing on our ground We ate plums and danced to Democracy And in our sounds of Nature There was poetry and power In Christ we had an ally And it is the written form For all of Signe’s dear Mom Who rains heaven to her And knows she is eloquent And entitled to a Lotus The green one that runs on her command In British style of ruin Was the theatre of Jeff But Signe won all of Asia And loves Antarctica and Maccabees Nothing but pyramids saw us Signe is well Is well In Christ,

For Dr. John Douglas Hall

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