Recently I left my umbrella on a train

I was enjoying my journey so much

That I left my assistant propped up

Against a lush red seat

In a way I am jealous of my umbrella

As it is likely to be either still travelling

Or has been discreetly positioned

In a dusty lost property room

Where in time it will be forgotten

I am sitting in a lineside orchard

With the love of my life

We are sharing a stolen apple

These are our idyllic hours

But we both know

That they will not last

As we are due in a distant country

In a few days and be there

For a considerable time

I have few dreams of leaving

But have many thoughts of return