The Blackwater Rose

Her wavy hair to her shoulders as dark as the wing of a crow
With a beautiful smile that told of the inner glow
And as nice a person as one could wish of to know
From the countryside where the Blackwater flow
Her eyes were as blue as the blue ripened sloes
This charming young beauty the Blackwater Rose
So nice in her ways and free of conceit
Local single young men for her attention were known to compete
My memories of her take me way back in time
She went off to England when near her life's prime

Back in the nineteen fifties when I was a boy
Old memories does linger as a source of joy
Where the Blackwater flow one not destined to stay
The wanderlust in her for places far away
But memories of young beauty one always does retain
And in my visualizations I see her again
The lovely Blackwater Rose free of conceit and guile
So young and attractive with a beautiful smile
Time does not wait as the wise one does say
She would be in her eighties if living today
Quite a beautiful young woman with the bright inner glow
When she lived in the place where the Blackwater flow.