After sailing on the Lake of the Pines
clouds were stacked
in mottled heaps
upon the western shore
we sliced the waves
while heeling low
our troubles were no more
pink and purple
clouds were ours
and so was time that day
warm sun and laughs
came falling down
and naught was in our way
the blue green hills
were miles away
and we slipped the mortal coil
we laughed and loved
the day away
forgetting earthly toil
blue-on-blue
as skies above
bore clouds so soft and free
time was fine
and it was ours
for only you and me . . . .
August 1979
in mottled heaps
upon the western shore
we sliced the waves
while heeling low
our troubles were no more
pink and purple
clouds were ours
and so was time that day
warm sun and laughs
came falling down
and naught was in our way
the blue green hills
were miles away
and we slipped the mortal coil
we laughed and loved
the day away
forgetting earthly toil
blue-on-blue
as skies above
bore clouds so soft and free
time was fine
and it was ours
for only you and me . . . .
August 1979
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