Lady Slipper

Lady slippers popping
Gently dot the ground
The backwoods deep, are sipping sap
In this ancient, shanty town
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From golden fertilizer
The wind blows whispering
The moccasin floats high above
The needles when it sings
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Seed by single seed
Old things have been set free
Where God reveals His beauty, born
In His tranquil sanctuary
By
Kelly Sampson Griswold

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