It’s an uphill race to a pastoral space

But go and you’ll nosh on sour grapes.

So, what’s the cost to find what’s lost?

Just volley up a prayer while you traipse. 


Swimmers gayfully float while others boat

In the presence of island parad-ice.

Vanquish the frenzy, be the brunt of envy 

Merriment is our final asking price.