A First Crush

In my memory she still looks lovely and in my memory she's still nineteen And I visualize her this moment picking bluebells from the ditch of the bohreen So lovely and young and so happy her brown hair blowing in the Spring breeze The hawthorns laden with white blossoms and birds sing on bushes and trees I then was a nine years old fellow she was ten years older than me She went off to another Country and her I never more did see One might say I had a crush on her but of my feeling I was too young to know As I was a very young fellow and that was a long time ago The years have left me looking older and what hair I have left silver gray But I still picture her picking bluebells when the fields wore their wildflowers of May She went off to another Country and I never see her again But good memories of a rare young beauty in my memory bank I retain As she picked bluebells from the ditch of the bohreen she smiled at me and said hello I was a primary school going young fellow and that was a long time ago.