Wednesday, 11 January 2012


We would meet in the cool green dawn, all those years ago.
In silent greeting my eyes would be hers.
Our hands touched as our hearts fell into distant considerations...and all those chambers opened up their darkness.
The world was our mirror...beneath its surface we would swim and dive for the pearls of our passions.
High up on the slopes I heard the raven that valley where the mist always seemed to lie.
In parting it was born.
Beneath the Ginkgo tree where I loved her.

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