Your waiting on the ridge
of Callow Top swaying in
the Holt.
The new Moon caresses
you with a promise
of tomorrow.
The sweet smell of your
blossom enriches me -
enters me.
As the blanket of our open
meadow unfolds for -
us.
In the darkness - snowy
Whitethorn embraces
hustings.
Whilst even the virgin
white flowers of Nettles
entice me in.
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