My eyes are red from weeping,
And my skin has wrinkled under the strain,
Of stopping teardrops from taking their deadly fall,
From the cheek to the muddy ground beneath,
Where i place this wreath,
With colours that sing of you when i see them,
Green for the emerald in your eyes,
Pink for the tender lips i pressed to mine,
Yellow for the dress that you wore when first we danced,
And red for the warmth in your smile when we took that chance.