There is a hollow in her hand
That needs to be filled with mine…

A beach of powder white sand
Where we cheerfully recline…

There are two lovely lips
Aching for a tender kiss…

A cliff top where the wind whips
Up a bracing breeze, sheer bliss…

Warm tints nestle within her hair
And seemingly skip with pleasure…

A buttercup meadow so rare
Where we picnic at our leisure…

Right in the centre of her chest
Her heart beats a rhythm sublime…

Wherever we are, that place is the best
As long as I’m with her each time….