The title really just a working one. I just found this jotted down in an old notebook. I'm guessing I wrote it around 1999 going by other details in the book, but, hey, I don't know. I was probably daydreaming about a particular boyfriend (or unrequited one!) at the time. I don't think I'm an obvious romantic - in fact, I've always said I'm not, but a conversation this week made me rethink things. Maybe we all are, really, in our own ways... Anyway... this clearly needs some work, especially with the scansion, but here it is in its roughness, anyway - such are the imperfect waters of love, eh...?
By the light of the parade
We would plan our escape
Sipping homemade lemonade by the river
There were cherry blossoms there
You would place them in my hair
I was your queen and I was fair by the river
Underneath that willow tree
We'd whisper our wildest dreams
This was our favourite place to be - by the river
Giving shelter from the cold
Killing time until we're old -
Oh, these memories of gold, of the river
By the light of the parade
We would plan our escape
Sipping homemade lemonade by the river
There were cherry blossoms there
You would place them in my hair
I was your queen and I was fair by the river
Underneath that willow tree
We'd whisper our wildest dreams
This was our favourite place to be - by the river
Giving shelter from the cold
Killing time until we're old -
Oh, these memories of gold, of the river
