Those heady summer days turn’d to evening
And the skylark sings sweet lullaby o’er head
As lovers you and I did naught but walk
Hand in hand, innocent so o’er sweet camomile
A’ tween soft white scented roses;
Those were the sweetest days of all.
Still, warm English summer, Hever nights
When where we went but no one
Knew and no one saw but the
Late night shrew and silent owl.
They need not make promise nor vow
Our secret ne’er to tell; though as still their
Silence they did keep, about us all the while
As we two lovers lay entwined to sleep
‘Twas set before we could not know, that tragedie
Was yet to call and make us weep.
(c) Andy Cooke 12/06/2013