In England brown birds make dusty circles on overcast days,
The ground blankets itself in moss and cappuccino leaves.
So when the sharp lemony sun fills the breeze with warmth,
And white cotton clouds punctuate the sky and my eyelids,
It feels like home

We'd got half way up
the Downs she talking
of certain flowers and
butterflies that had

passed us fluttering by
and we rested by the
large hollow tree and
she said shall we go

inside it's large enough
for us and more? I said
ok and we did we climbed
inside the big hollow

tree and it was like a
largish room a hole in
the side of the tree acted
as  a door and a small hole

acted as a window nature's
little lodgings she said and  
we sat back on the inner
parts of the tree and there

was a little ledge like a seat
for  two and we sat there
and she said I think it's
lovely this yes it is I said

-and was glad Lizbeth never
knew of this or she'd have
drawn me in and wanted
somehow to have said

about having ***- Jane
was content to just be there
sharing a bit of nature and
being with me and she said

Daddy showed me this
when I was little and I was
amazed and thought fairies
came here and hollowed it

out I smiled and thought
Lizbeth would never have
thought that and I doubted
her father would have bothered

to show her anything makes
it so homely Jane said fancy
living here and coming back
here after a day's work and

having no place to wash or
bath and she laughed and I
loved that aspect of her that
innocence that being part of

what was natural and I wanted
to kiss her and hug her but I
didn't we just sat there sharing
the hollow tree just Jane and me.

And there
by the water tower
Jane stood
and I was thinking

of how I'd helped
my  father saw the logs
for the fire and stove
and the sun was beginning

to open up
and bring more warmth
and she was standing there
and I felt a glow

of happiness fill me
and she waved
as I approached
and I waved back

and as we got near
I said she looked
a sight for poor eyes
and she smiled

not knowing
what I meant I think
but anyway
she said that her father

had asked her to help
do the flowers
in the church
as there was to be

a funeral that afternoon
so she had helped
and I asked
who had died

and she said
an old parishioner who
had been a regular
churchgoer

and we walked on
along Bug's Lane
between the hedgerows
and bird were singing

and flying overhead
or from hedge to hedge
or over fields
and she asked me

how I was and I said
better for seeing you
and she laughed
and said so was she

and I was tempted
to hold her hand
but didn't want
to be seen

as presumptuous
and so I didnt
but I did smell
the scent of flowers

on her
and it drew me
to her even more
and I said what's

the scent you're wearing
it smells nice
and she said it
was she mother's

that her father
had bought her
and her mother said
she could wear some

and so she did
and we walked on
towards the small church
a good walk away

that warm
flower smelling  
sun pouring down
summery day.