Sunday morning.

Sunday morning.
by cricketjeff on June 21, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
The wind has teased the treetops and I’m dreaming of your hair
The sun excites the daisies on the lawn
I want to kiss each freckle, there are blue tits everywhere
Been feeding up their brood since early dawn.
We’d sit and sip our cider if we had the world alone
With all the time and space that that implies
The robin proud upon the fence with redbreast clearly shown,
I’d be gazing at reflections in your eyes.
No neighbours would be mowing as I gently stroked your hand
The blackbird has a worm so flies away
You would kiss me if I kissed you and I know you’d understand
That a Sunday morning’s always right for play
We’ll take a little dreamtime and the world will carry on
Since nature always knows just what to do
I’ll dream that we are sitting where the summer sun has shone
With birds and bees and, most of all, with you.