My cheeks turn red,
looking into your eyes so blue,
lovely thing we call a feeling,
a feeling that's been caused by you.
YOU ARE READING
Last Summer Garden
PoetryPoems of last year's carefree summer reorganised into one album.
Roses are red, violets are blue
My cheeks turn red,
looking into your eyes so blue,
lovely thing we call a feeling,
a feeling that's been caused by you.