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Country Christmas
by Raynette Eitel

When Christmas comes to the country,
The woods will know it first –
A bluebird sings the merry news
As though his heart might burst.

When Christmas comes to the country,
The trees bow low with snow,
And ropes of fenceline down the lane
Are tinsel, row on row.

When Christmas comes to the country,
Stars twinkle twice as bright
And melted moonlight makes a path,
Enameling the night.


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