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Hillsdale

Chimes for the Blue and White
For Oliver my son at Hillsdale

The old clock is a'chiming
From out the hilltop tower,
Ringing out for old and new
The changing of the hour.
Changing through the seasons
That swiftly come and go,
For Freshmen through to Seniors
And all who hear below.

Summer's in its fullness
The leaves have yet to fall
Peaches are now sweet and ripe
And corn is getting tall.
The finches are a'flocking
Yet to travel away
And the Grosbeak's fluid singing
Is lilting through the day.

The constant measure is beating
For those young hearts and true,
Who sojourn to the mullioned halls
To wear the white and blue.
With high spirits and fresh antics,
New faces will appear,
But Hillsdale unperturbed will greet,
Unchanged, the coming year.
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Submitted on October 15, 2013

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Neil McLeod Claim this poet

Born in Oxford, raised in Kenya, past winner of Los Slamgeles Poetry Slam and author of abitingchance.blogspot.comand "The First Thanksgiving".Doctor McLeod is a performing poet who has recited at Highland Games, dinners and Burns Nights for the last 36 years. He is happily married, lives and works in Los Angeles,has three children, and practices as a dentist on Sunset Boulevard:http://www.drneilmcleod.com/He can be contacted by e-mail at drneilmcleod@yahoo.com and will willingly entertain requests to share his work with permission. more…

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