THE LADIES GAVE ME ROSES (©Words and music by Paul F. Cowlan)

Musical snapshots from the early Frankfurt years, when I used to tramp the cobbles of Sachsenhausen looking for gigs. London was more familiar, if no warmer, but you can’t freeze if you’re in love.   

The ladies gave me roses when the streets were deep in snow.
They brought them to the microphone and they would not let me go.
And the wind blew cold on the river, and the candles were burning low.
“We really loved your songs.” they said, “We thought you’d like to know.”

Through the frozen streets of the city where the snow lay soft and new,
I kept those flowers safe and warm, and I brought them home to you;
and we lay there in the darkness and talked the whole night through
of dreams, and plans and promises, and all we hoped to do.

On a February evening in the lights of Leicester Square,
we turned our collars to the wind, and the rain shone in your hair;
and a lady drew your portrait as I stood and watched you there.
The streets were cold, but you and I had love enough to share.

Store up all these memories for the coming of the years.
A dreamer by the fireside,  imagining she hears
a voice that calls her by her name and soothes away her fears.
Smiles to haunt your rainy nights, and songs to bring you tears.