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