Deborah's Poetry: The Redhead

Saturday, August 2, 2008

The Redhead

One day I went into the park, And there I met a singing lark. He looked at me and then he said, “Why you have hair of cherry red!” “Oh, yes,” I said, “a gift from Mom, I was conceived at senior prom.” They came from near, they came from far, And congregated in a bar. “And there she met a man in... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by sfcookingpoet at 7:39 PM | add or view comments (5) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
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