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Poem:

(Red)

Once I heard,

A precious gem,

To look at life,

And worship him,

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You spy the red,

Or see that white,

And drop a knee,

To thank the sight,

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All beauty black,

Or touch of blue,

It’s in his color,

We see his true,

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Strung up on brown,

Or rising grey,

A song of praise,

This hymn we pray,

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Of all he’s made,

Such soft and fair,

The world paints on,

Because he’s there.

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