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Daffodil Wood
It was just a few years after Queen Victoria,
first came to the throne,
the girl had been told never to roam,
far away from her cottage home.
Don't be long love at your play,
I won't Mama the girl did say,
waving as she watched her skip away,
heading towards Daffodil Wood.
No one ever did find out,
what became of the girl.
Her mother died of a broken heart, they said.
Father, when he wasn't drinking, took to his bed,
or wandered among the trees calling,
Come home my love, Daddy's not cross,
but she was never seen again,
and after years of searching,
he followed his wife to her grave.
So the years did pass,
Victoria, long did reign.
Though the story was all but forgot,
Mothers would still chastise their children,
and warn them that no matter what,
they must never, ever,
go and play,
down in Daffodil Wood.
When I was still a boy,
back in 1963.
I went to stay with an Aunt of mine,
in a cottage in the West Country.
I'll never to this day,
forget that look upon her face.
When after tea,
I told my Aunt the strange story,
of the girl I'd met,
as I took a walk,
down through Daffodil Wood.
She was so sad Aunt, I said,
as she tucked me into bed.
Her hair was all dirty,
her dress was torn.
That's when I heard her say,
It's so lonely here,
please be my friend.
Why won't you come and play?
Come and see me tomorrow,
down in Daffodil Wood.
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