Sky High Flying 1961 Poem by Terry Collett

That's Mugwort
and that's Red Sorrel
and that over there

is Red Campion
Jane said
we were walking

on the Downs
the sky
summery warm

almost cloudless
cattle mooed nearby
a flock of birds

flew over
our heads
her hand held mine

skin on skin
warm
soft

I sensed an appley scent
about her
we had kissed

the day before
and it had been
other worldly

and now
I wanted to kiss again
but didn't want

to push forward
but wait to see
what happened

and that
she said
is White Deadnettle

smiling at me
you know
the countryside well

I said
well you Londoners
know nothing of it

but at least
you want to learn
she said

I liked the flowery dress
she was wearing
red and yellow

with a yellow sash
tied about her
and the white

ankle socks
and black shoes
(slightly muddy)

I observed her carefully
wanting to know
more of her

of nature
of us
and that bird back there

was a pheasant
she said
we paused

in the corn field
and looked back
up towards the Downs

and she turned to me
and kissed me
and held me close

and I felt almost
absorbed into her body
and wanted

to feel more and more
and she parted
and said

I'm no expert
on kissing
was that all right?

not sure
I'll need to try again
I said smiling

and she took my hand
and squeezed it
and kissed me again

and the cattle
mooed louder
and a bird

flew overhead spying
before it took off
in the sky high flying.