The breakfast coffee has been forgotten

 But it remains on the green tile table

Cold and still in the white sunlight

I am watching you play table tennis on the lawn

With your dearest friend

What a sweet summer this is

There are places that are divorced from the world

You could almost call them havens of tranquillity

Our summer house is one of these places

But we purchased it during a fierce storm

That wrecked the beachside cottages

At the base of the cliff

You have both tired of your strenuous game

And are swimming in the blue pool

That separates the garden from the cliff path

You ask me to join you but I decline

As I am editing a book that I wrote during the winter months

About everyday life in our summer residence