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Daisies In My Hand

I'm walking down the street
With daisies in my hand,
They were picked by my
Six year old little man.

He knows how to put a smile
Upon his mother's face,
He is filled with
An Irishman's good grace.

Every day when I walk with him
He places daisies in my hand,
They are given to me
By my six year old little man.

Copyright Cynthia Jones
July.13/2004

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