Homespun poetry that makes people happy.

Next-Door Valentine

I heard the evening train go by,

Its lonesome whistle blowing.

I wished that I could be on board

Ties cut, and I were going

To some adventure far away,

Perhaps t strange, new lands

To feed some inner restlessness

And occupy my hands.

That was before the girl next door

And before the honeyed vines

Wrapped us as one on her porch swing

Where moonbeams would dance and shine.

Her eyes could rival all the stars

What was the need to roam?

For everything the heart could wish

Was right here close at home.

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