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Agatha and Bougainville
Quaint is she mr. Yardern's doe,
Such hazel eyes which shed a tear,
Her Cheeks tender as kitten's fur
Under the Bougainville who weeps, is her.
Quaint is she, as southern breeze,
With a tiny waist of her,
Enough are boys with her to flirt.
She dons a purple bubble skirt,
Quaint is she, such dazzling girl,
Her filth is what is pouring out,
Gloom has shaded her face too deep,
Under the Bougainville she weeps
© jude
Such hazel eyes which shed a tear,
Her Cheeks tender as kitten's fur
Under the Bougainville who weeps, is her.
Quaint is she, as southern breeze,
With a tiny waist of her,
Enough are boys with her to flirt.
She dons a purple bubble skirt,
Quaint is she, such dazzling girl,
Her filth is what is pouring out,
Gloom has shaded her face too deep,
Under the Bougainville she weeps
© jude
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