Swung for love
flung between
cold earth and sky’s embrace
green willows as my garland
my sadness in degrees does soar away
and whispers back again
my soul now belonging
in the horizon’s complexion
time so briefly spent in tumbling clouds
divides more wide than tides to moon
but still my flight cannot wait
for breath
or sight
as I swing to delight
and back again
" . . . maybe he doesn't love me, I just took a trip on my love for him. . .he's here again-
The man with the child in his eyes . . ." - Kate Bush
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