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278 The Swing In The Tree

A cool touch, a shudder to my senses.
Relentlessly your arms wrap around me.
My heart feels so full and commences
To dance in my breast under the stars.
Panting, heaving, not wanting to let go.
It cannot be I say.
This swing in the tree with its branches
Cannot be holding me this way.

While on this swing flying out,
Not only the wood, but the still of the night,
And never wanting to be let go,
Are keeping me locked up tight.
But the dampness, the chill is rolling in,
As dew on the branches grows.
You must release me from your arms
I say, as the swing then suddenly slows
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