Romantic This sea that bares her bosom to the moon, reminds me of a stripper, nice girl, name of June, I met once after a party in Torquay. Me and 'er 'it it off, if you take my meaning, walked along the strand, hand in hand, like you do, and kissed, and then our thoughts and grips did go... well wild, like, it's natural in the young, romantic, so I popped the question, din I, an' to this day, I'm 'ere to say, that a woman what knows when to say "no," is a lifesaver, for all the turmoil and boil, passion on gas mark six, 'ot... my god, bubbling like water round a free minute egg, in amongst all dat, wot I fought I wanted and what was actual on the cards, in the fuchah, was two different fings, an' she, bless 'er 'eart, could count. There was a lot of wisdom there. More than I deserve. Touched Turning her head she said it's a touch of the sun you've got yes I dare say a touch of her sun of her youth of her beauty a touch of her on the brain a touch of middle age coming on a touch of the moon a touch of longing for a touch for more than a touch that means yes why not? we are here alone on this high hillside touched by the breeze by the sun and not touching. David Ritchie, Portland, Oregon ------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html