THE WHITE DRESS
When I was green as a young forest
I sewed and bleached a pretty dress
Then neatly folded it away
To wear upon my wedding day
When that happy day arrived
I hardly slept and woke at five
To sprinkled water for to press
The folds and creases from my dress
I took the footpath to the church
And underneath the pines and birch
Slipped on moss and tore my hem
Then a sprinkle turned to rain
Slow and steady to the earth
Making mud puddles in dirt
And as the wind started to rush
I ran into a bramble bush
By the time I got to church
I’d scratched my legs and lost my purse
My hair was just a tangled mess
And I had ruined my pretty dress
Come sit with me just as you are
No matter all the wounds and scars
No matter the unhappiness
Which sheds as easily as a dress