The purple heads of the chives standing on their bottle-green
stalks
were June’s bright soldiers above the dun-coloured sandstone;
beyond them, the soft pile forestry of the opposite hillside
was a kind of wealth to us, especially in the rich glow of evening
sun.
I moved closer to you; held out my hand to find yours already
there,
to be links in a chain with this beauty; and then I said, ‘I
love you.’
It was not just the moment; it was the magnificence of the
view below us;
I needed something that grand to put the words into.
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