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….