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