Talking on air
High above the sparrow hawk,
above the gossiping sea;
a lichen seat, a spooning talk,
when my love sits with me.
High above the long bay,
is a field where rabbits play,
and mole hills sleep all day;
and seaward through the gorse we walked,
and of fine times, just like these, we talked,
and we talked
and talked.
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