Your Stories

I reeve her up wind

Then give her the one to sail

And weeds grow to hold me

I decide not to go to sea

In there I sit with your glove

Sewing a small end that I shouldn't had

When outside the door I see

Where you hide below the old tree

(In the place we love)

I've played before your way

I ran out, but there you gave

Where you'd hide, but I can't follow

Still out of sight, you left me a clue

Where trees grow near the river

And many months ago we formed a fort there

Where grasses make us play

At your hest to mow the way

And I went looking under the old tree

And I carved your name

But I rived in two the place under the tree

But I recovered the half you left for me