We all fall down
John Clare Stokes
Ashes ashes we go round
Merry the circling spin
Joyful the lads sound
Pockets full of posey’s
Oh how the lasses grin
The blush of cheeks rosy
Breathless they all exclaim
Let it never end
Swift this ageless game
Youthful exuberance gone
Spent the wheezing bend
Slowing the frail hobble on
When to still silence all around
Well done my old friends
Ashes ashes we all fall down
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