Sunday, February 6, 2011

The Fair Rose Of Penshurst

In his memories of her she has not grown old
The fair Rose of Penshurst with ringlets of gold
That grew to her shoulders she has not aged a day
In his mind time has not left her looking wrinkled and gray

When he was a young man in old Penshurst Town
Long before the years brought the gray to his hair of dark brown
The fair Rose of Penshurst was then in her prime
But that is going back many decades in time

On sunny evenings in Summer as she walked on Bell Street
With her beautiful smile everyone she did greet
The fair Rose of Penshurst was free of conceit
As nice a person as one could wish to meet

In her early twenties she left Penshurst for to live elsewhere
And to try out her luck in the big World out there
But young in his memory she does remain
And in fancy he see her in Penshurst again.

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