She stood her guards against pretence
To make some trivial conclusion
She'd plough the fields of perfect sense
She never ventured second thinking
She'd always take a trodden road
Benevolent to friendly drinking
But not a friend to a heavy load
She tried to hide behind the frame
A perfect way to stay unseen
And as she did, one man proclaimed
The death of Lady Evergreen
15.12.07 Michael Star Feive