Cotton Clouds Poem by Mark Heathcote

Resting back in the meadowsweet
arms aside outstretched
eyes gazing up at cotton clouds
think of all the times to meet.

What bliss it is to fall in love.
To sacrifice a little work time
and find yourself-alone
with a lover who's just enough;

as mayflies hover, you contemplate
his lips, his tender embrace
an eternity spent lengthways,
afloat, like a little gliding reed boat.

Oaring-further and further out
toes curled, itching for shore
but heart evermore cotton clouds
not-quite-sated - always wanting more.