http://www.glugwines.com.au/barossa-valley-wine-area/?twclid=2-4mahndvn6qlb96gagaegkoct4
The Handkerchief.. The Handkerchief. . If memory serves, and doth serve me well, ‘Twas a chance meeting on the steps of St. Paul’s, Was a service for some civil event or other, Tho’ what, for the life of me, one no longer recalls, But I was passing on those wide, gracious steps, When it caught my eye that her hanky she dropped, Was pure chance I was there to snatch it from the wind, And I remember thinking ; “what a delicate thing”… Unusual for a woman of these times, When forceful character is demand of the independent kind, To clutch an embroided haberdash’d cloth so fine, Seemed to me to frame a delicate but thoughtful mind. Another fortunate stroke of fickle luck, Happened as I politely proffered it back, For that sprightly wind then tried to snatch her hat, And she had to act quickly to repel such attack, So she, and me with hat and hanky in tow, Made our way to a sheltered elbow, ...
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