ode to the beautiful lady of Brooklyn

I saw a beautiful lady,

in Brooklyn

Was it last year?

Maybe April or June,

About a half hour past noon,

The skies were clear

of rain,

Gleaming a magnificent blue,

Gingko nuts crashing on the concrete,

Stinking up all of Fulton street.

I saw

a beautiful lady,

The most beautiful lady,

A beautiful lady

In beautiful Brooklyn.

I don’t remember her face,

I can’t get it

quite right

in my memory

I try to piece it together,

But it’s all a bit foggy.

I saw,

The beautiful lady

of Brooklyn,

some time ago,

I remember her

lean figure

Her bouncing curls,

that tore in me apertures.

Oh, what a funny thought,

but get this,

The beautiful lady of

Brooklyn

She sang off key!

This lady could not hold a tune,

But that made her all the more beautiful.

This beautiful lady of Brooklyn,

Was it half an hour past noon?

In her own little world,

she swished and she swirled,

sashaying her hips,

as the unmelodic words left her lips,

oh, beautiful lady of Brooklyn!