MY IRIS GAYLE 

My Iris Gale is quite a girl.

For her each night I knit and purl,

And sit and wonder with furrowed brow,

If it is possible, and why and how.

Her little form stirs in my heart

A love that words cannot impart.

The thought of her makes my heart leap.

I can't believe she's mine to keep.

She has a pert little turned up nose,

With a darling mouth like a pink tea rose.

And when she smiles her face lights up

Like the morning sun on a buttercup.

Then when into her room I creep

To watch as she smiles in her sleep,

I know that nothing can replace

The love I feel for my angel face.

Yes, Iris Gale is quite a girl

For her each night I knit and purl,

And sit and wonder with furrowed brow,

If it is possible and why and how.