The Primrose Peeps

The primrose peeps
Where green moss weeps
All under the Maple tree
When April weaves
The woods green leaves
Dear is the place to me

When Maria and me
Seek the mossy green tree
Scaring bees from the flowers as we go
Primrose and blue bell
And violet as well
That all o'er the Ivy ground grow

Maria was sweet
As the flowers neath her feet
The dead leaves were pleasantly stirred
As they fled from the shoe
Mid the blossoms and dew
Like the rustle and flight of a bird

The primrose peeps
And the green moss creeps
All under the Maple tree
Where Maria so warm
Is hung on my arm
And walking the woods wi' me.
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.