My Last Silver Dime
J
James McLain
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She is too young,
I was not old enough.
On her I spent my dime.
Fresh roses there might grow.
To find out if I might love.
Stay and love, she said to me,
stay and love, or go and love the sea.
And if the sail, be young and full of air,
come back to me.
A dime, my silver dime, my last silver dime.
To be the comb,
that makes the part in your long hair.
Look my love tis not a twisted thing,
or wise enough to fool my aching heart
To find what this is all about,
I see your face through the sail.
Bu şiiri puanla
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