Swaying gently in breezy park skipping, tripping mellow sun grass waving skirt fanned out as if it saw you an arm of womanhood beckoning come I knew how I looked and loved what I knew the essence of style was me was strong could win battles as a lily wins a bee Then upon a rose my flowing skirt did catch jerked back as father’s hand had years ago when playing on a ledge A little rip I heard a scar in pink chiffon its partner on my heart Turning back along the pretty path the road that brought me here no more wise, no less giddy for I am pretty just the same no scar can hide the way I am