Whisps of hair tickling windburned cheeks,
We trail down hidden bush tracks,
To breathe secrets lost to babbling backyard creeks,
We trace the plaster cracks,
That meander through glowing stars on my ceiling,
Delve under the patchwork quilt,
Torches illuminating blanketed feelings,
Watching our daisy chains wilt,
Beneath cool summer skies,
A kingdom of clouds shaped to our desire,
Bottling your warm sunshine eyes,
Marshmallows and sticky fingers shadowed by campfire,
Twined together with years of colourful string,
To me you were never just anyone,
I was the moon to which we did sing,
And you were the radiant sun,