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.