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A Memory

We took my Mum to France

She was far too old to dance

But when she saw the Carousel

She jumped right on and nearly fell

She tottered round to every horse

“I’m looking for the grey of course!”

A passer by said “She’s too old”

My mother never could be told.

She was quite young for eighty three.

I wish she was still here with me

To make more memories like this

To hold her hand and feel her kiss

In dreams I see that Carousel

And it’s time again to say farewell

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