She greets me with a smile. It lightens up the room.
"Where is your little farm gal? I hope I meet her soon"
"I don't know, my dear aunt. I really cannot say."
Time, it marches onward and the trees will sway.
"She must be a beauty, by how he blushes so"
Every time we meet, this is how our rhythms go.
"Please tell me what her name is, don't leave me hanging here"
"I know not when my wedding, be it far or be it near."
At the end of our conversations, it always goes the same
"When I know, I'll call you up and tell you her sweet name"