Almost a Poem...

              #397

              Echoes

Of all the girls I loved before,

There's just one girl I still adore.

Her raven tresses turned to grey,

Her soft smooth skin has given way

To Time's caress and Nature's beat;

Yet, still her smile is God's own treat,

And for that smile there's this conceit:

Sweet Marguerite, sweet Marguerite.