Oft’, whether by softest silver moonlight, or warm summer sun, I went to meet my lady in the hall between the trees. ’Twas an ancient hidden place, with subtle gate, through which two worlds could meet.
She would smile, and I would kiss her velvet lips.
Then, I would steal out into the garden whence the hall was hid, and, nonchalantly, join the pedestrian passers-by on the roadway headed home. A warmth burning in my heart unmatched by all but Prometheus’ fire.
At night, while apart, I’d lie staring at the ceiling, Her green eyes would haunt me, until, like a warm duvet, sleep would cover o'er me and dreaming, I would pass into a dreamless slumber.
After the day’s duties, I’d again stroll down to the old rose garden at the center of town. When not a soul could see, the thorny bushes I’d pull aside, stepping through the shadowy door to meet my other-worldly love.
End
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