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.
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