On that early April day,
Walking in Mt. Vernon Place,
We paused under those trees,
Widely known for their grace.
The Magnolia had bloomed,
The fragrance heavy in the air—
Drowning out the city;
And we breathed deeply there.
Pappa found the branch,
A seat in a pale pink room.
And what a view I had–
Of every lovely bloom!
I sat for quite some time,
Perched high to see it all;
Pappa right beside me,
Preventing any fall.
And the only thing sweeter,
Than that fragrant bliss,
Than that flowery view,
Was, of course, Pappa’s kiss!