Natalia Pierandrei
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Pretty Lady

The prettiest lady that I've seen
Came dancing, dancing over the green.
She wore a hat with a curly feather,
Her dear little shoes were of scarlet leather.

With the tips of her fingers she held up her gown;
She didn't look up, she didn't look down,
She didn't look left, she didn't look right,
Her curls flew out in a stream of light.
My mother called and I looked away-
I never have seen her since that day.

© Rose Fyleman

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