I met her on a Mayday
Walking by the canal
Early summer bursting my senses
Lock water hurrying to be still
A bee surveying his patch
A swallow home from Egypt
A lark breaking his winter silence
And she worrying about a broken gate.
STORYTELLER
I met her on a Mayday
Walking by the canal
Early summer bursting my senses
Lock water hurrying to be still
A bee surveying his patch
A swallow home from Egypt
A lark breaking his winter silence
And she worrying about a broken gate.