| The heavy air was scented by
|
| The disappointed flowers
|
| The weatherman had promised them
|
| Warm soft summer showers
|
| They bowed their weary heads
|
| Resigned to wait a few more hours
|
| And we walked together in the half light
|
| Down secret paths
|
| Climbed wooden fences
|
| Till a dancing meadow
|
| Enveloped us within its grassy web
|
| There was no need for discussion
|
| It was surely no disgrace
|
| Her soft skin had the texture
|
| Of the finest silken lace
|
| Waiting moist and trembling
|
| It was just the time and place
|
| And our woven bodies sang together
|
| In harmony
|
| With understanding
|
| Till we fell back smiling
|
| Rejoicing in the music we had made
|
| The blood red summer sunset
|
| Was a slowly spreading stain
|
| That rose behind the bandstand
|
| As the shepherd played again
|
| We heard his silver trumpet
|
| It had blown away the rain
|
| And we lay together in the long grass
|
| Holding hands
|
| And making sweet talk
|
| Till the smell of woodsmoke
|
| Reminded us that it was to go |