On Ditchling Beacon

One of my favourite poems about meeting nature, and meeting each other in nature – in that part of nature that borders on human place.

 


We melted into the meadow

And wild grasses tickled us

Even as we tickled each other.

You can see the planes

At Gatwick from here

On a clear day, and no day

Was ever as wonderfully clear as this.

You told me fairy tales of

Light and Shadow, and I knew

This was the Story of You.

Witches used to dance here, love,

Under moon-skies on windy nights;

The wolves were running then, but not today

As we held each other, high on Ditchling Beacon.

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