Do you remember
how in our splendid youth,
we left the world far below
and walked into the hills
where wild, summer flowers
spilled through grassy meadows
and scattered velvet petals
in drifts beyond the rise?
We set ourselves adrift
amid the newborn blades,
each pliant to the lightest touch,
and every one so green
but none so much as I,
nor so eager,
to take us down into those petals
and crush the scented grass,
'til every wild, summer flower
filled us with love's renewal
long into our lives.
Say you do remember,
yes, say you know me still
and the tender, summer taking
of your petal-scented girl.
I remember far off hills,
of the greenest meadow grass
and that splendid, youthful aching
in your eyes.
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