Hello Again Miss Rosemary

I remember when I met Miss Rosemary, the wonderful woman named Willow Rosemary.
Quiet nights I spent under the stars with Willow Rosemary, the city lights that reflected and bounced off of passing cars. Teenage jealousy and melodramatic actions performing on stage like a Highschool play. If I could change the days we spent, they'd remain the same. Not a single star in the sky would shift. The branches of a willow tree sway slowly, the cool ice in lemonade melting under the embrace of a summer sun.

Hello Again Miss Rosemary.