Here I find a calm, our quiet lounge
With sunlight and slow-wave shadows
The whistle of the wind
At the ill-fitted door behind me
At the smart wood-burner in front of me
Enclosed in its luminous green cave
The shadows are of the trees, outside in the garden
They move in the breeze; pardon Monsieur, pardon
Based on these moments alone the decision would be easy
You are asleep, warm
With a love, tender and caring
Gifting me this time
Gifting me this peaceful place
The doubts are of my own making, inside my mind; they move
With the dark and the daylight, they move on my man, they move on
