Quaint streams and quiet stumps lie down in peace,
Bask in the open heights of canopies,
They've leant against the sky to hide from all,
The busyness and noisy streets.

A podium in eights,
Dressed in pretty metal,
Wipe off all dusty slates,
Scratch out pretty petals,
For now the date is special.

Flexing arms pile on and wrestle,
I deem thee jostle hug,
In active opposition - jest,
Four limbs locked in a cuddle snug.