My Strawberry Blond
Early each morning
When I was a wee lad
I looked for the maiden
Who danced by the swing.
Her eyes were as green as
The grass in the meadow
And all of that summer
My heart was in spring.
She told me her dreams.
Her lips were like flowers.
Her arms were as dainty
As branches above.
Her hair decorated
A freshly picked daisy.
Though just four years old
I was deeply in love.
She pushed me to heights
In apple tree blossoms.
The cords of the swing
Were tied to my heart.
I told her that one day
We two could get married.
She told me that soon she
Would have to depart.
For she was in college,
Someplace called Toronto.
September was coming
And she would be gone.
That morning she hugged me.
It's all I remember.
I'll never forget
My strawberry blonde.
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