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Description
I stare out the window at all these things as they pass by:

See her: she's beautiful.
Natural, perhaps.
Hills and valleys, all green - wood or field.
Mercurial skies look down on me,
Dancing to the tune in her heart.
The occasional stony face
Blasted by wind
Or dynamite
Into the forms they now take.
A black white river flows far below.
A chapel stands in the distance,
Surrounding itself with God.

How many miles pass beneath me? Beside me?
Never to be touched by me;
Breathed by me.
Flowers never smelt, hills never climbed
Boughs never hung from.
Half an inch of glass bars me from these dreams.

Or, perhaps, reveals them to me,
Taunts me with them:
They were never really there.
This land is not real.

She is too beautiful, too perfect, too magical,
Too real.
And I love her too much.

I say goodbye in my heart,
Not for the first time,
Not for the last.
I am addicted
To this land:
To this beautiful, wild, loving.
She pulls me to her bosom,
Holds me to her heart before letting me go.
Her last sensuous, sensual embrace,
Beckons me home again to her.

No one person,
No one place,
No one heart can be so passionate
As my Lady.

Description
I stare out the window at all these things as they pass by:

See her: she's beautiful.
Natural, perhaps.
Hills and valleys, all green - wood or field.
Mercurial skies look down on me,
Dancing to the tune in her heart.
The occasional stony face
Blasted by wind
Or dynamite
Into the forms they now take.
A black white river flows far below.
A chapel stands in the distance,
Surrounding itself with God.

How many miles pass beneath me? Beside me?
Never to be touched by me;
Breathed by me.
Flowers never smelt, hills never climbed
Boughs never hung from.
Half an inch of glass bars me from these dreams.

Or, perhaps, reveals them to me,
Taunts me with them:
They were never really there.
This land is not real.

She is too beautiful, too perfect, too magical,
Too real.
And I love her too much.

I say goodbye in my heart,
Not for the first time,
Not for the last.
I am addicted
To this land:
To this beautiful, wild, loving.
She pulls me to her bosom,
Holds me to her heart before letting me go.
Her last sensuous, sensual embrace,
Beckons me home again to her.

No one person,
No one place,
No one heart can be so passionate
As my Lady.