Sunday, March 19, 2006
Two sisters once wore shoes of fine leather
And toured Marburg in spite of the weather.
They stopped for a strong dark cappuccino
Then took the short cut home through ice and snow.
They swore next time to share a cab together.

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There once was a girl with lovely brown hair
If it were longer, would she be more fair?
What forward, thoughtless impertinence!
Such a thought doesn't make a bit of sense.
It's the heart, what's in it that truly counts,
Not the long hair that reaches way down to, Where?

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There was a young lady in Germany
Who turned nineteen, but did not hear from me.
With her hosts she ate torte and ice cream,
Clearly this is a girl's second best dream.
What else is she hoping? What can that be?