The Rose Of Semaphore

Her shoulder length wavy hair as dark as the wing of a crow And her eyes as dark blue as the ripe Autumn sloe Near the prime of her life a year with a score The beautiful smiling Rose of Semaphore She smiles at everyone that she meets on her way As she jogs on the beach at the twilight of day Without any sign of fatigue on her beautiful face Like a gazelle she moves at a leisurely pace A beautiful young woman free of conceit Her sort of person is always nice to meet Of her splendid beauty she does not seem aware One with her sort of humility nowadays seem rare The Rose of her beautiful South Australian Town She jogs on the beach as the sun is going down Like the graceful gazelle she is light on her feet She strides out without effort like a natural athlete.