Oh crushed the buttercups beneath our feet
Hand in hand to walk the sweet green meadow
To hear the lark and nightingale so sweet
Side by side, sit on the stile in shadow
To sing with the tinkle of the small stream
To laugh as the bees fall, sweet nectar filled
Here with you it is more than life’s true dream
A touch of hand, a thigh, leaves me thrilled.
An angel does touch your most loving face
To take you for their own I do believe
But no, not then and yet by who’s good grace
Twas not the time to go or time to grieve
In love a gentle kiss upon the lips.
E’er more the fight to grasp at life he grips
© GG 16/01/2014