Crisp air to savor, quench
Today calls for a strident walk…
Of course there is Ernest,
walking away from the same old gloom now
Then he walks all the way to it
Isn’t it time that he gets one of his own?
‘Round the fountain
Two singing lovers
“Two top for you,” the old man remarked
A rose for a thorn,
and a thorn for a rose
Lovers abject, lovers glinting
like sequins in the snow
Then came night, Ernest was appalled
He thought why must I be the only one?
I wish for a future with a beautyful maid, won’t she come down?
Just then he awoke at last
Darkness approached the lovers pining
“But they kept on tweeting and picking azaleas” the old man remarked
A rose for a thorn,
and a thorn for a rose
Lovers abject, lovers glinting
like sequins in the snow
When the brisk air is a real mensch
Today calls for an ardent talk…
…but what do I know?
I’m just old folk.