Cinderella's Song
By the fire I sit and dream
And in the flames I see
Pictures of the lovely things
That never come to me
That never come to me, to me
That never come to me...
Carriages, a lovely gown
A flowing silver cloak
The embers move
The picture's gone
My dreams go up in smoke
My dreams go up in smoke, in smoke
My dreams go up in smoke.
By Enid Blyton
I'm sitting by the fire this chilly spring day, dreaming of the soldier who kissed my silver ballet slipper before putting it back on my foot, on the steps of my hotel in Oban, when I turned 40...such pleasant dreams. What will you dream of as you sit hearth-side and gaze into the flames?
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| When a girl loses her shoe, it must be true love. |
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