We come upon the flower meadows where the dead do lie
The gentle roll of the ancient chalk with a cross stood by
With the words of sea shale whispering through old beach trees
I feel my lover’s happiness dances across my shoulders.
He notices the colour of bullion blowing through my sun locked hair
Then pulls it back with entwined fingers, my glistening lips revealed
With a gentle caress of smiling eyes I welcome him in to my secret place
And here I find my lover