Love Was a Yellow Dress
It was Christmas time in the City,
Ellen was only ten,
Too new to know anybody,
She didn't have a friend.
Her mother wept for her daughter,
Who had asked for just one thing,
A new formal dress for Ellen,
The Christmas bells to ring.
Mother picked yellow taffeta,
And tulle for a sweet bolero,
Ellen had no use for the dress, but
It was Love with a capital letter.
She never wore the dress to a party,
Just swirled in front of her mirror,
But its memory lives in her heart to this day,
Treasured more valuable than any material.
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