Down on the green fleece jacket
The one with the piping white
Green like emeralds the jacket
Her hair, coal black like night.

The golden heart suspended
And chain about her neck,
Spend the hours close to her--
In heaven, I expect.

The hair net worn professional
A trend for fashion sets
When all beneath beguiles the eye
A crown on her it rests.

Once, I saw her run the square
A brisk and steady pace
Dressed in black from head to toe
A stern, determined face.  

I'm wishing I could run with her,
But that can never be--
Except maybe from time to time--
In a fantasy...