Wooing her was difficult.
For money or what I do not know.
My eyes glittered like her necklace.
And to her ear rings they would race.
No no. It was not money.
It was never money.
Only because she was a honey.
After all she is the sole heir.
Of a father, with receding hair.
But when I wooed
or tried to woo,
her eyes would burn
as if I am sticky goo.
One day I heard,
she ran away with him.
And then I saw,
the new 'Necklaced Lass'.
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