You talk of cherry orchard
Jazz and your God Father,
And how just being merry
You colored your auburn hair
Turning it more of a flame
Which never ever dies,
You talk of your marriage
With a beautiful autumn sky,
Your wardrobe is filled with
Garments never worn
You carry red shoes
Like berries to your home,
And your window has
A view of a maple tree
From there you claim
You can see me easily,
And I here sit under
A cloudless sky so blue
From here I get the scent
Of thistle and you,
You talk of New Orleans
How there sun rises too
You talk of silvery eyes
with which moon loves you,
And perhaps of that tavern
Where comes the friday night
Filled with renaissance songs
Mary from wall watching you quiet,
I think of temple gongs
How sombre they feel
I think of going with you
To an unknown pleasant hill,
There we would oneday sure
Forgetting all boundaries
Make a garden filled
With oranges and blue berries.
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