Just like a ripe plum
I was so smitten with Julie
With the rosy glow
Then there was Gina
She held my hand at singing
Her eyes were on me
It was a new school
We’d moved to a new township
“Do your best” said mum
But I loved Julie
Whose sweet eyes never left me
Springtime long ago
I’m much older now
Why do I think of those days?
Maybe it’s winter
Image from 1900s.org.uk
Julies can be troublesome..maybe Gina is a steadier hand...wrap up warm!
ReplyDeleteI love your deep meandering thoughts. Winter gives us much time for thought me thinks. Thanks for the comment on my post that led me to ponder (I could write a poem about it.)
ReplyDeleteWinter always makes us long for spring, and I love your springtime memories.
ReplyDeleteNice I do think because it is winter I went a similar way
ReplyDeleteWinter cold has a habit of stirring old warmths. A beautiful memory trail.
ReplyDeleteLove that the new school made you happy...:)
ReplyDelete