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