Ginny

Was it worth the pain, beams bouncing in our room, smell of salt and grain, when now the springs groan, your face in dusky gloom, a solace or wrecked alone, useless as a home in shade, the shock of my perfume, brings me close to say, consult my lovely bones, play some radio tune, don't let me see you old, shall we greet the trains, escape the sourball blues, try to act constrained, beneath our song of hope, I'll wear again my costume, make you dance on stones, won't always be the same, me in this fancy trouve, not trying to refrain, what we chose as love.