When my lady was a baby
said her mother kept up daisies
She'd pick 'em in the yard
let 'em shine up on the windowsill
Well those daisies, they went lazy
lost their color, drove her crazy
made her sad to say they always lost their will
Now she speaks to me with those eyes,
looks for color in the night skies,
plants a garden full of roses,
paints these daisies on our baby's walls
Lovely lullabies in her voice
singing
'Dear, if it were my choice,
this home would be our flower
and I'd never let its petals fall'
Yes, this home would be our flower
and I'd never let its petals fall
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem