one day in may you'll find 
an elm grove spotted with ivy vine 
a covered bridge to a place you insist 
is always worth the time 

down a path on hampton's back 
and buried by the banks 
feeling low from the order in stone 
that their epitaphs take 

ooooh 

just like a new mint sprig 
who only gets sweeter when you muddle it 
pearly stays in a saffron glaze 
but I always waste the day 

you're an over-looked, never-hooked  [bad word] find 
from the littered backwash 
of the high tide line 

ooooh