A Gripping Tale 
                by Ian Curtress 
                
                    
                        It had been a
                        lovely walk, much further than we had
                        planned 
                        In secluded woods, almost lost when
                        suddenly she gripped my hand 
                        Most welcome of course as usual but not
                        that sort of grip 
                        She walked so quickly I became afraid shed
                        lose her footing and have nasty trip 
                        She explained an unusual feeling and and
                        a sense of some confusion  
                        Almost as if trespassing and guilty of
                        intrusion. 
                        It passed and we soon found a country inn,
                        a very pretty scene 
                        We sat outside and being newcomers
                        the landlord asked where we had been 
                        He seemed a little surprised we had found
                        it, locals give it a wide berth 
                        Its an old wives tale he said but Ill
                        tell you, for what its worth  
                         
                        Theres a story told long ago lost
                        in the mist of time 
                        Of a longed for meeting which occurred,
                        strange and yet sublime 
                        Its thought it could be a soldier
                        before he left for war 
                        and his beloved Lady saying their
                        goodbyes. But no ones really sure 
                        She had misgivings and he knew the odds
                        against a safe return  
                        Hiding their feelings, joked that they
                        would return and dance amongst the fern 
                        Twas in a valley between distant hills
                        where footsteps seldom seen 
                        Grass is tall and lush. A truly verdant
                        green 
                        Very rarely and at random times a
                        gentleman seen under trees 
                        Smiling of countenance and yet signs of
                        some unease 
                        Seldom moves from the pleasant shade
                        although his eyes are so alert 
                        Then for a moment an expression change as
                        if he suffers hurt 
                        A sort of resignation and acceptance as
                        if so little chance 
                        To see the one he longs to see and have
                        that promised dance 
                        No one knows how it came about or for
                        whom he waits 
                        They say she is his only love but as if a
                        twist of fate 
                        She oft appears folk will tell but always
                        when he leaves 
                        With affection and sadness aware of why
                        he grieves  
                        They both know they can never meet. No
                        magic to employ  
                        But each has bestowed a happiness which
                        nothing can destroy  
                        He has seen a wondrous smile and gorgeous
                        eyes, a heaven in which to bask 
                        They will be with him until the end of
                        time. What more could lovers ask  
                         
                        My lover gripped my hand again but this
                        time a grip I knew 
                        I left my half drunk local beer. Well
                        come on.......wouldnt you! | 
                     
                 
                 
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