We were sitting in the open air
Enjoying the voice of a local crooner
I casually sipped from my schooner
Admiring the red flower in her hair
I couldn't help but observe her smile
She was enjoying his artistic style
And didn't notice my unwavering stare
As she was relishing the enthralling tune
Under an alluring harvest moon
She turned and caught my glare
And said you wouldn't, perchance,
Be thinking about late night romance
I winked and said to her, ain't we a pair
Very much so, she replied
Oh, how I do love my bride
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem