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