Leading Me To Sunday

Wasn't written in the scriptures you'd be found
twin bunnies hopping along side with the summer
little Ronny Johnson's sister tagging right along
stolen glances and secret kisses
swinging together on the old tire swing
back before father called you home

That was then before painted memories
hung out on the front porch with lemon tea
refreshments sparkled a quite midnight sky
loving hands held in a most romantic way
warming hearts and projecting missed moments
waiting patiently for my Sunday to come again