Saturday, June 25, 2016

a memory of faded face

The bus stops on the hill
On a clear windy day I watch
Out of the bus she walks down
A pretty girl I see

Every man on the hill
She walks alone with her bag
Nobody makes a move
They watch her in their eyes and minds

Maybe they want to try
On the hill we don't see many
The pretty women who travel alone
On the cool hill of long ago

It's only at night on the cool breezes
I walk to her and the easy conversation
We become like a couple in the days ahead
The nights of whisper and the stories stay behind

The romance in the cool hill
The nights never a dull time
Friends may ask but no answer to share
It's the secret until the day arrives

Goodbye seems the hardest to say
She is going home across the sea
It's only the memories and faded face
A pretty girl I once knew

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