When I see the sun,
I remember her
The way she loved to languish in the warmth,
Show her skin to the light.
Darker hours made her pensive, she mostly shied away from the night.
And when troubled dreams plagued my sleep, I would climb in bed with her; she’d hold me tight.
When I spot a patch of clover,
Something will make me expect to see her there,
Sprawled upon her belly, feet up in the air.
Hunting four-leaf clover peaceful, and without a care.
When I catch the scent of fresh cut grass
Drifting through my open window,
I’ll remember her noisy, summer evenings
Face a little dirty, hair all a mess
Running about the neighborhood joyful and shoeless.
Of harmful things in this world, my darling girl was clueless.
She was a wild, crazy creature
Long skirts bellowing as she’d spin
Laughing, shouting, dancing, full of life
Because she’d never allow herself to be defeated, she never knew a moment’s strife.
A gentle mother… A loving wife…
She’d throw her head back, eyes closed
Laughing boisterously at the slightest, little thing
And how I love to recall her sweet voice, as she’d sing.
I’m sure she would be glad to know the memories the sunshine brings.
The way she loved to languish in the warmth,
Show her skin to the light.
Darker hours made her pensive, she mostly shied away from the night.
And when troubled dreams plagued my sleep, I would climb in bed with her; she’d hold me tight.
When I spot a patch of clover,
Something will make me expect to see her there,
Sprawled upon her belly, feet up in the air.
Hunting four-leaf clover peaceful, and without a care.
When I catch the scent of fresh cut grass
Drifting through my open window,
I’ll remember her noisy, summer evenings
Face a little dirty, hair all a mess
Running about the neighborhood joyful and shoeless.
Of harmful things in this world, my darling girl was clueless.
She was a wild, crazy creature
Long skirts bellowing as she’d spin
Laughing, shouting, dancing, full of life
Because she’d never allow herself to be defeated, she never knew a moment’s strife.
A gentle mother… A loving wife…
She’d throw her head back, eyes closed
Laughing boisterously at the slightest, little thing
And how I love to recall her sweet voice, as she’d sing.
I’m sure she would be glad to know the memories the sunshine brings.
