The bluebells turn bluer
Holding in their laughs
At these two
 
Too old to be doin’
Holding and touching
Under gossipy trees
 
His mustache white and yellow
Against her mouth wrinkled
From smoking
 
Her hair short and burgundy
Him older than grandfathers
And her not far behind
 
Out there in nature
An unnatural sight
A sneaky snog
On a summer night