far from the madding crowd
along summer-dusted, bracken paths
we shield eyes, we stop, look out.
harbours of bays and bobbing boats
inspire stories, peppered anecdotes
until laughing, looking back we find
there are no words.

far from inflexible fixtures, boundaries
of two lives left temporarily behind
today we own each step, each moment.
and easily, in unconscious instinct
we partner in the making
weaving,
creating: comfortable content of our time.

far from a barely hoped-for dream
in this present, here we are, at last
sun-kissed, blessed by celestial warmth
goose-bumped, at the ocean’s shallows.
a luxury granted, but not taken for;
sacred now
forever hallowed.