I'll swear I never felt her
in the soft touch of a clover
brush my legs so sweetly
as I look our field over.
I'll claim I haven't heard her
whispering my name
in this lovely hidden meadow
witness to my shame
I'll say that I can't smell her
as the autumn leaves decay
and know not of the bed
where forever she will lay
the grass is always greener
on a certain patch of ground
but I'll claim I haven't seen her
if her body's ever found...
Chuck Audette
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/coming-to-my-senses/
