On the steps of the north stands the lady of the wood
In the soft of the light in the meadow where she stood
Carrying with her the cradle of truth
Standing in the shadow of her beloved youth
I hid behind to watch her sleep
Stunned by the hush of her auburn weep
Breathless from her beauty and Donnyville smile
I craned to peek at the blend all the while
There have been many times when I thought way back
Reading of the book that painted it black
The leopard girl that stirred my drink
My Pinot sweet with her knowing wink
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