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Montana in the Spring

We could see the snow on the mountain high
And the misty clouds in the blue blue sky
We could feel the touch of the gentle breeze
And watch the sway of the willow trees

We watched the flow of a babbling brook
Where a fisherman paused to bait a hook
Lambs romped in the purple clover
And cattle grazed on a hill far over

Pussy willows soft and gray
Nodded to us on our way
Purple violets all so shy
Hid themselves from passers by

Meadow larks and robins sang
In the village church bells rang
The peace and quiet of a balmy day
Made trials and troubles seem far away

All this unfolded as we passed by
Made a picture one could not buy
And so our hearts did truly sing
For Montana's so gorgeous in the Spring

-Myrtle Storm

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