The rich grass of Scotland is where I start my tale,
Upon a chance encounter of unforseeable importance.
It began as an offhand remark,
Of the two girls it was the boldness of one extremely shy,
'This sounds interesting' mumbled the mysterious stranger,
'Tis, fair maiden. And what be your name?' was the confident reply.
Delicate as a passing breeze she uttered, Tess,
A name beffitting such a gentle lass,
So fortuitous a meeting! I exclaimed to my friends,
For a chance like this I could not allow to pass.

The morning's sun steadily beamed down,
Whilst jet black hair flashed in the light.
Rays honoured to touch so pure a soul,
To kiss her lips my only goal.

As the enchantress weaved her spell,
Time languidly ticked by yet possessed a terrible swiftness.
The mornings bright illumination turned to mid-day haze,
The threads of past memories interlaced,
And with freckled face and a gaze that could sear,
Her form bestowed with elegant grace,
Such breathtaking beauty I had never glanced upon before.
Images of entertwined hands and passionate embraces,
whirled gayely in my thoughts.

With perception attuned to the highest degree,
All masks strewn asunder upon such potent a force.
Truth dripped from unguarded lips,
And an eerie, unfathomable ease crept over,
Past and present merging under sturdy oak.
Speed, precision and slight of hand,
A heart forever touched.
As pulses raced and breathe quickened,
I Stammered; thinking quickly before I lose my nerve!
Whispering 'may I kiss you?',
Agonisingly slowly, a smile danced along her speckled cheeks,
And without a word her eyes replied, a simple yes.
Transfixed they paused; nose to nose, heart to heart,
Hanging the unspoken words of romance and lust,
A mirror of compassion, understanding and trust,
And so it was, right from the start.