Enchantment.

You smiled at me.

My fear took flight And fled like mist before the sun.
The dreaming, sapphire afternoon
Seemed touched with song and wild delight.
The droning of a bumble bee,
Became a hymn of praise to me.
You smiled at me.
I noticed then
A golden mist upon the hill.
Sweet scented gorse, but then it seemed
Treasure made for fairy men.
A soaring skylark seemed to be
Athrill with sudden ecstasy.
—D. G. M.

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