Lie down with me in the gorse and heather;
while the flowers are in bloom?
Let the brisk sea air and hum of floral scent,
wash over our sleeping bodies;
cleansing our weary souls.

With the gulls to sing our lullaby;
bare skin diamond-dewed, like the ewe-grazed grass,
only the omnipotentorange sun will see our nakedness.

And the tie-dye skies will be our blanket.

As we rest.

With thorns digging in our backs.