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Love in the Heath You’re lying clear on Summer clover‚ Eyes shut‚ body wide‚ Evergreen‚ green freshness drifts on‚ A warm breeze light¸ I come to you as a lover‚ Eyes open‚ I hide‚ Through woody brake‚ closer I trace anon‚ Stirring butterflies to flight¸ You’re framed by wild rose and daisy‚ Like a field of lips and eyes‚ Watching and caressing‚ Wooing you with lusty fragrance¸ And I‚ like Pan‚ through dim and hazy Timber stoop in woodland guise‚ With laurel vines entwining Head and wrist and lance¸ Softly the west wind loves you‚ Kissing each breast to peak‚ And rolls over your tapering waist‚ Blowing‚ tingling at your thighs¸ I watch in stealth from garland pew‚ Worshipping silent and meek At your altar‚ holy and chaste‚ Your splendor brimming my eyes¸ Ah‚ you’ve spied me now‚ I think‚ I saw your hazel orb peak my way‚ But I’ve been still and hardly a breath‚ Perhaps my trait’rous heart you hear¸ You’re smiling now‚ a flush of pink‚ Rises on your cheek and breast so gay‚ Do you smile for me secluding in the heath‚ Or for the Summer day abounding near? Terry Krabbe copyright Terry Krabbe Co¸‚ 1990‚ all rights reserved