Here is my number to call,
If Summer should fall short
Of your dreams.
Or has lost its meaning.
You have my name.
And my address remains the same,
As before.
Remember when we met.
Under skies that left us wet...
When rain came pouring down.
Remember it was then,
We said we'd meet again.
And the holidays came to go.
Although the snow has gone...
All Spring you have been on my mind!
Here is my number to call,
If Summer should fall short
Of your dreams.
Or has lost its meaning.
There is a reason why...
We met with eyes that say,
Let's try this again!
This Summer we have found ourselves,
With feelings to reveal.
We met with eyes that say,
Just how we feel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem