she was a good looking dandelion
dancing through the breeze,
tip toeing in her nimble roots,
she had you shaking in the leaves.
12th street, I met her, saw her in the brush,
the shine she shone if unknown was just what caused the blush,
redness in the face an irritation, the cure or antidote was just another application,
though love was lost from being simply impatient.