In my memory she still looks lovely and in my memory she's still nineteen <br />And I visualize her this moment picking bluebells from the ditch of the bohreen <br />So lovely and young and so happy her brown hair blowing in the Spring breeze <br />The hawthorns laden with white blossoms and birds sing on bushes and trees <br />I then was a nine years old fellow she was ten years older than me <br />She went off to another Country and her I never more did see <br />One might say I had a crush on her but of my feeling I was too young to know <br />As I was a very young fellow and that was a long time ago <br />The years have left me looking older and what hair I have left silver gray <br />But I still picture her picking bluebells when the fields wore their wildflowers of May <br />She went off to another Country and I never see her again <br />But good memories of a rare young beauty in my memory bank I retain <br />As she picked bluebells from the ditch of the bohreen she smiled at me and said hello <br />I was a primary school going young fellow and that was a long time ago.<br /><br />Francis Duggan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-first-crush/
