Beauty Walking By the Docks

It was a red haired girl that caught my eye
that first morning as I left the docks.
Such a smile, surely Helen is her name.
No siren song could ever seem so fair.
As one forgotten in a dream was I
and thoughts begin to spin like clocks,
I turned to see from where she came,
her perfume riding lightly on the air

called out that I should follow her.
Up through the winding ways she led,
and once or twice I saw her glance,
with eyes but surely bathed in light.
And with each glance my heart would stir
as the fire within my heart was fed.
T'was a smile that crossed her lips, perchance,
a hint of a promise to fill my night

with pleasures as yet to me unknown
but fancied in dreaming youthful lust,
when hearts and minds are joined as one,
sweet carnal yet sacred all the same,
tilling the field and turning the stone.
Breathe the sweet fertile scent of her must.
I'll make her the glory of my setting sun,
if only she'll give me the gift of her name.

At the top of a hill as I finally drew near
with honey my words on my tongue yet unsaid
her father appeared from the shop that he ran
and greeting her warmly he led her inside
The look in his eyes as he saw me was clear,
she was not one for the sailors to bed,
go find what you're after wherever you can.
That sweet virgin daughter was surely his pride.