I cried for three days, when Maureen O´Hara died
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> her Hazel brown eyes, drove me insane,
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> those flaming Red curls of Auburn hair,
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> legs as slender as the falling rain.
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> Treasured memories of herself and Wayne ,
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> The Quiet Man, will never be the same.
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> a twinkle in her eye, a sparkle in her teeth,
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> The star played the ball, had the world at her feet.
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> As the years rolled on, Maureen's flame began to wane,
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> Arthritis set in, she was in a lot of pain.
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> when the final curtain fell, we swore in Vain,
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> We´d never , ever get an Irish Red Setter again.