Our meet

The shining light from a distance village tower; And the long stretch of land ahead, The yellow full moon large and low; And the startled cold wind that hurts Like the arrow from a soldiers bow; As I gain speed with pushing prow It comes back and hits me more. Ahead is a mile of English fields; Two fields to cross until a house appears An oak tree and then a sharp turn to right; And blue spurt of a lighted candle A voice less loud, filled with joy and fear Than the two heart beating each to each.