That summer day afore I did depart:
Like those merchant ships of Tarshish
Which sailed not once from their home port
Were my words affectionate to that dish,
They never my mouth left to her ears forth,
Failing her feelings as a buckleless belt
A sagging trouser. Though cold feet I felt
Nay; howbeit it's for her squeamish heart.
Yet I, beholding her supine in her pink bikini
On the beach with a lollipop, was musing honey.