your blonde hair, soft and flowing
was as fragrant as
the meadows we walked
with hands clasped and
fingers interlocked;
My dream saw you stride with passion
beside me through the cotton grass,
skirt hitched high above your grass whipped thighs,
we laughed our way, and cut our staggered path
through wildflower lowlands to
the heathered heights I'd promised...
but my moorland winds blew harsh!
their torment ran cruel fingers through your hair
and thrashed against the flushed face
of an angel, but I was there beside you
and, with all the blossom I'd gathered,
I wove braids of bluebells in your hair...
and all the harsh winds were then forgiven...
and we danced,
as free as friends...
your blonde hair soft, and gently flowing...
