Swallowtail Jig

And sometimes
When she slips on her faded tartan shirt
And liberates her hair from its braid
When the sun kisses her fair cheeks
And her eyes glow emerald

He thinks he catches a glimpse of something
Ancient and ageless
He thinks he catches a fragrance of something
Heather and peat
And he would not tame her
Even if he could

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