Canvas, antique photograph, log cabins with 1/4″ logs and buttons.

It matters little where be my grave,
If on the land or in the sea;
By purling brook, ‘neath stormy wave,
It matters little or nought to me;
But whether the angel of death comes down
And marks my brow with a loving touch,
As one that shall wear the victor’s crown,
It matters much!

Happy Monday all. (I almost forgot to post! We had so much fun today shopping, eating and laughing. 2am came around quickly!)

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