In an ant hill, in a tree,
In a crowd of sixty-three.
I feel lost and then confused
But smile at you, quite bemused.
You squeeze my hand,
We swim for land.
You hold my arm,
And render harm.
A useless thing, a broken spear,
With you my love, I know no fear.
Only warmth and sunny skies,
That dance love’s tango in your eyes.
