Daisy

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Daisy yellow, daisy white

Blooming in the sun’s bright light

They were all that filled her sight.

Spring came like never before

And she plucked every petal that she sought

Does he love her, does he not?

She knew that he ought

In the spring of sixty-four.

Climbing toward the sun

Daisies were so much fun

Plucking petals was like drawing a gun

Playing this roulette made her heart sore

Could he love her?

Or was she a bother

All she knew was she wanted more

In the summer of sixty-four.

Fall came and the daisies fell

Long forgotten was their smell

Now she could never tell

Her heart he tore

Could he?

Would he?

Every see her as lovely?

In the fall of sixty-four.

Winter came and the daisies were rotten

Picking those flowers was long forgotten

Love she hadn’t sought in

His heart which was for

Her to keep,

But her courage didn’t take that leap

The love to have was too big a feat

In the winter of sixty-four.

So never guess twice when it comes to love

For the power of

The heart is like a dove

Immensely fragile but always wanting more

Thousands of sun sets

And hundreds of stars will never get

A growing heart to have met

This kind of love in sixty-four.

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