Every time I look
Into a mirror,
I ask myself, what
Are you doing here?
You're blonde hair,
Is white as snow.
You're all dressed up
But no place to go.

There is always a time.
There is always a place,
For these words to rhyme
when I see your face.

The new flowered Tulips
move and sway
on this cold,
cold April day.
The Sun is out,
that I'll say,
but the chill remains
and will now stay
for a few more,
of a Winter/Spring day.

I look out the window
and I see,
a three-quarter Moon
looking at me.
It is in the morning hour;
a quarter past three.
I am going back to bed
to be close to thee.