Bluebonnets and primrose
follow the river's edge,

in the shadow of pine trees
that grow up on the ledge,

a place where two loves
kept their nightly tryst,

he, a bluebonnet, tender,
she, a primrose miss.

Now old, alone, he returns there
to walk in the morning mist,

and remember his lovely primrose
he so passionately kissed,

when they walked the river's edge,
in the shadow of the pines,
high up on the ledge.

08/06/2002

Posted on 08/06/2002
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