CAREY
Dec. 1989
How can the brightness of these big blue eyes,
Bring joy to a heart that never dies?
Why would the softness of long golden hair,
Surrounding the face of this one so fair.
Make mush of my heart and my head as well?
It's almost as if, I were under a spell.
I've seen people smitten, just as I am, before,
And I've thought to myself, "My what a bore."
She blesses me with her hugs and kisses,
If I could, I would grant all her wishes.
I'm putty in her hands...beats all I ever saw;
All I have to hear, is her call...Mema!
By: Sheila Weaver
AKA: peacefullyabiding
How can the brightness of these big blue eyes,
Bring joy to a heart that never dies?
Why would the softness of long golden hair,
Surrounding the face of this one so fair.
Make mush of my heart and my head as well?
It's almost as if, I were under a spell.
I've seen people smitten, just as I am, before,
And I've thought to myself, "My what a bore."
She blesses me with her hugs and kisses,
If I could, I would grant all her wishes.
I'm putty in her hands...beats all I ever saw;
All I have to hear, is her call...Mema!
By: Sheila Weaver
AKA: peacefullyabiding
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