Bruce Donnola: Music

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Pretty Maggie

Once the world was a ball made of glass in a child's hand;

And within was a cold shaken storm that covered the land.

But beyond it's horizon lay a secret so closely kept;

When, in spring's morning light, I lay still as pretty Maggie slept.

Then the sweet flowers of spring opened up and filled the air

Mingling with the scent of a tempest of tousled hair.

Out beyond our horizon lies a season time left unswept.

And our morning's still there, watching her as pretty Maggie slept.