The flowering cherries
Flowing and pink,
Blossoms, like snow
Fall to the ground,
Emma has eyes, like the heavens of blue,
She has a delicate air of beauty about her too.
If Emma were a season, she would be spring,
She's free and she's happy, like a bird on the wing. Where Emma is, you hear the laughter of great friends,
Remembering the old schoolroom
with tears and heavy sighs,
Where fear lurked behind
the eyes of innocent child,
Camelot, rich imagination of mystery and power,
King Arthur, Merlin, the magic sword of Excalibur.
Fair maiden Guinevere, Arthur's queen,
A beloved wife, but faithful not,
I think alone in dreams,
Quite hoplessly it seems,
That the world could live as one,
Beneath the glowing sun.
I have a dream, deep in my heart,
I guess it's been there, from the start. I can feel the power, behind the universe,
Lying there in secret, feel it in my verse. I can feel his love, with my simple heart,
And I know he loved me, loved me from the start. And I know he's with me, all along life's way,
I read a book, a book that's true,
And somehow I remembered you,
So I left my home, and by night I flew,
Three thousand miles, to be with you. Sunrise in Corfu...
The book lay in a graveyard with the dead.
Its derelict cover, strewn with fallen leaves.
Presumed a relic of the past.
Upon the cover of the book, a faded cross
I’ve never seen a child so fair,
Golden sand is in your hair,
Beautiful and full of laughter,
Were you an answer to a prayer?