Friends, and your head was resting in my lap.
I wore a dress that Summer: blue, pink rose,
and there was sun, but best thing was that you
were resting in my lap and we were close.
Then we made a child to end the Summer.
My dress became too tight in March to wear.
Your head then found another place to rest
from where you kissed the baby, stroke my hair.
Friends, and we watched all our children play,
a new child living in my lap once more,
and at night I rested on your shoulder,
while little feet would come in through the door.
Loud fell the rain in Summer nights,
friends came by in shady evening hours,
children grew to leave the house one day
and I still wear a blue dress with pink flowers.