By morning when the birds chanted,
I hid among the thickets and waited;
withheld my breath, never panted,
waited with anxiety and the desire to possess –
only the crickets creaked their noises
and a bird-call twined the air;
thought, was somewhere a bird baited?
Then luckily I saw her pass by,
I saw Rayleanne and made a sigh;
did my eyes to me lie?
Blinked and looked, heart pounded warmly:
what a smashing beauty o really!
silky young silvery shanks,
Uncomparable to my spindle shanks.
It was not lust that made my bones rattle;
’twas beauty and love at my doorsil for battle.
The length between us was like a wattle,
and she moved down crooning,
looking beautiful, radiant and charming;
Sure, in that skater she was cutting a dash
with every quick blink and flash.
As she filled her small barrel,
I stood and made to move a muscle,
but a breaking twig broke up the silence;
she turned, peered towards my direction –
dropped her barrel and began to cry,
my charming Ray,
so softly, I compared her tears to the gushing river
and saw true love, true heart in it.
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