1.

A terrace where the fuchsia flowers are gasping for the rain,

where work can be forgotten, since nothing gets begun.

The hammock is swinging under battens of cane,

in flashing communion with a southern sun.

So in reply,

I wink my eye;

but the blank stare

reads - no one there.

2.

The path on the cliff-top is rugged and worn,

with rocks that look wrinkled, as a tortoise's dry skin.

The magpie cackles from a crown of thorns,

with its face distorted in a joker's grin.

So in reply,

I wink my eye;

but the blank stare

reads - no one there.

3.

The glint of metal from a motorcar of leisure

comes breasting the pine-slope to the place I am at.

The face at the window is pouting with pleasure.

I've stones for her bracelet, like milk for the cat.

So in reply,

I wink my eye;

but the blank stare

reads - no one there.