Well the sun was not so hot when we decided
To switch off the radio and take a ride,
But we only got as far as the ice cream van
When we turned around and made for home again.
By the river bank and thru the short cut clearing,
Which was not so clear as nettles left their sting,
But we managed to hit road before we wilted,
Though our tutti-frutti well and truly melted.
And as the sky became increasingly revealing,
And settled for its afternoon appeal,
We left our cycles petting in the bike shed,
And lingered ourselves awhile, behind.
And in the evening we rounded on the garden,
And ate as night pretended to return,
And finding our holy day amazing
Stayed a little longer in its grace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem