You saw the sheep, ridiculed
I photographed the fine grass
Let's not forage too deep
No thread for crossing out
So soon to be trailing back
All joy at the beachside pass
Dutchmen shoring up the creek
One Alexandria on the wall
Two shadows out for a stroll
All in all it is a four-star class
That is, before President De Gaulle
There is some secrecy, or maybe
It is reserve, anyway to be
To fall into ones own thoughts, without
Need of lookouts or faint-heart vigilantes
Then of course to take that drink
The one that loosens, allowing
Flotations and serendipitous
Occurrences to mask the doubts
I did see the mountain, clear
You did see the sheep, advertising
We travelled this one way together
And together tonight we'll sleep
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