Archery

They say you never know
Why you love somebody

But it is for that time
Beyond your time when all
Those arrows loosed blind from young hearts overbowed
Meet unexpected gold
And chime

Hear ! the call is coming home
Over night-rooted crests
Waking deep sullen wastes
(oh years for not much gone
oh life for little spent)
To the meaning of a forest

For that splendour you loved
Splendour is never late

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Author: Frog

Writing and gardening between England, France, and an often-dreamt Mediterranean.

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