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Princess

de Magna Carta

She is dreaming
She is thinking
She, la, la, la la, remembers it all

Little old lady with face as grey
As a day in the life that was sweeter by far
With horses and coaches and crinolined ladies
And gentlemen walking and never a care

The holly of Christmas
The apples of summer
Green leaves of springtime, the gold of the fall
And the bite of the frost on the first day of winter
The sound of the wind in the elm trees so tall

She is dreaming
She is thinking
She, la, la, la la, remembers it all

She sits by the hearth, and the face in the fire
Is lined with creases of memory years
The cloth on the table is milk white and worn
Where the teacups of ages left glitter brown tears

Her long ago mother wore bible-black skirts
And lace as white, as the snow in the sky
The smell of the schoolroom and taste of the ink
Shouting aloud at a chance passer-by

The searching for flowers games in the meadow
First touch of hands and an answering smile
She watches the Sun spill a paint box of colours
Sink in the west and it seems for a while

She is dreaming
She is thinking
She, la, la, la la, remembers it all

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