John McCullagh June 5, 2007
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Come to this place where I lay

See the beauty of the bay

Feel the peace, the solitude

On this mountainside by the old oak wood.

Read the names, the dates and times

Of those before who made the climb

Past the river where fairies bathed

Up by the green where fiddlers played.

 

I am a rock –  I stand alone

A symbol to those far from home

Touch my side – write down your name

I’ll hold it here on stone

Of the day you came …

 

I know you’ll come forever more

The young and old – up from the shore

I offer those who make the climb

Their names on stone till the end of time 

Those who never return home

Whose names are written here on stone

Know the place where I lie

They’ll hold it dear until they die!

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