There’s 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 Just waiting 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 Is 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….