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.
Paul Levy 