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.