English maid
The sight of a fine English maid,
Calls for attention to be paid,
Her Celtic beauty is displayed,
With harmony hearts strings are played,
Locks of hair of a shade of red,
The kind of girl you'd dream to wed,
You'd chase her wherever you're led,
Cannot get her out of your head,
Skin fair as a summer's day cloud,
With ease standing out from a crowd,
Holding herself both tall and proud,
With great grace she has been endowed,
To her you will happily bend,
Her honour you'd rush to defend,
Time in her arms you'll crave to spend,
Few others with her can contend.
poem by Christian Lacdael
Added by Poetry Lover
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