the-red-haired-girl-field-sunshine-photography-barley

She saw him there first and her breath caught

While the white daisies blew on the youthful wind

She bent to pick some, mama said they made her pretty

And she needed all the help that she could get

She ran, as the daisies brushed at her ankles

In a hurry, to go and finally meet her love

For surely he was a vision, made just for her

She’d run a thousand years just to touch him

Just once, before the daisies all went away

She’d chase him, with faded daisies strung in her hair

For as long as the wind still blew its youthful air

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