The Bookshop has a thousand books, All colors, hues, and tinges, And every cover is a door That turns on magic hinges.
Death is only an old door/Set in a garden wall. - Nancy Byrd Turner
Death is only an old door/Set in a garden wall.
- Nancy Byrd Turner
The Bookshop has a thousand books, All colors, hues, and tinges, And every cover is a door That turns on magic hinges. - Nancy Byrd Turner
Under our thatch, friend, place shall abide for you, touch but the latch, friend, the door will swing wide for you! - Nancy Byrd Turner
Under our thatch, friend, place shall abide for you, touch but the latch, friend, the door will swing wide for you!
Death is only an old door Set in a garden wall; On quiet hinges it gives, at dusk When the thrushes call. Along the lintel are green leaves, Beyond, … - Nancy Byrd Turner
Death is only an old door Set in a garden wall; On quiet hinges it gives, at dusk When the thrushes call. Along the lintel are green leaves, Beyond, …
Oh, heart, let's never grow too old To smile anew, when Christmas comes, At tassels red and tinsel thread, And tarlatan bags f sugarplums. - Nancy Byrd Turner
Oh, heart, let's never grow too old To smile anew, when Christmas comes, At tassels red and tinsel thread, And tarlatan bags f sugarplums.
Easter's nearly here, now - Sing, world, sing! - Nancy Byrd Turner
Easter's nearly here, now - Sing, world, sing!
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