Outside Love Poem by Cleveland W. Gibson

Oh! Cotswolds, your charm shows. You, I first
met for moments only twenty years ago.
Forever after rambling upon your earthy body
delights my London City mind to forge with you
a life long attachment. Pal.

I fear, I hear echoes, of your sabre- toothed
winds, sweepings the hills, my face suffers also
with such laughter lines of love, and perhaps
that exquisite pain only lovers know. I do. And it
shows. In every return to you I enjoy the
weather. “More sunshine I call.” Taunt.

Long have I run my marathon dance around the
circle of bluebells held in woody clumps, and
then have strode down arrow straight lines of
daffodils to the brink, where stretches a field in
rich corn ears sometimes, but more often,
covered in the silver delicate dew of the spiders'
web. It is like heaven, you perhaps a wonderful soul.
An eternal spirit of the land. Mate.

The early morning brings forth rewards, my mind
drinks the oxygen-laden air, and the stick in my
frail hand prods the earth as if I were majestic,
the Lord, the Squire, the owner of all of Nature's
wealth. Inside I rejoice. Forever in outside love.