We lay on our summer bed With a breeze caressing our love Robbie was still wearing his glasses As he was nearly blind without them Erotic Poems of Summer

Our garden is Blessed with colours You are the garden

Our garden is Full of colours You are the garden

Notre jardin est Plein de couleurs Tu es le jardin

Notre jardin est béni de couleurs Tu es le jardin

I walked into the slow river Wearing nothing but a shift The water was summer cool I was able to see my halt In the middle distance And sensed its final train

His head exploded Suddenly and without warning The Queen had been widowed I was soon aware of all the facts And wrote a very detailed book Which was burnt in front of me

The Queen was so thin That it seemed that she might Snap in the weakest breeze Many doubted her gender And this lead to disquiet Within our already divided country

Swimming in inland pools A summer occupation I was watching you From a wooden jetty Amber Jane Wissland and Paul

It was a summers day Full of high winds The white clouds Were scudding Across the blue sky I was sitting On a concrete step Sketching these errant clouds