They went skinny dipping,
when the sky laid heavy and warm,
in bare naked exposure,
night swimming,
in the moonlight bright
she found herself the golden one,
he was a tired diamond,
tired to death of life,
he peeled shells from nutmegs,
which he dutifully crushed,
a sorry occupation,
and he blushed,
the non-conformist nutmeg,
just a little spicy,
he hung them out to dry,
swung from the boughs of the sweet chestnut tree,
shouted so loud,
that his voice became hoarse,
the man who played conkers,
that old chestnut,
the horse one,
picked up his conkers,
my God,he was bonkers,
(C) Livvi