The Lady
Thee Lady,
With ropes of hair divine,
Whom is she, dear,
Mayn't I mind?
Her eyes are crisp with
Light of day,
And cheeks tinted with
A flush of gay.
The shoes she wears,
There are none,
Only dots of Tulips
By the tons.
She glitters at appearance,
And is handsomely in rapture,
At dawn her smile awakens,
And in dusk her song does capture.
Please, whom is thee Lady
Crowned with sprightly
And ageless youth?
Why, the spring of
Years and that's the truth.
-M.J.S
Have a lovely spring
