The breezy bush distracted us

Made her break her apple green stare

And look away to the pavement

To the beat of my feet

Crisp salad leaves crunched my wet fork

Whilst the check of the tablecloth

Engulfed the wine bottle in squares

And the metred beat froze

Time is no match for a redhead

Her red rhythm leaps like scared deer

While time ticks regular like rain

And the beat carries on

A clink of glass returns her stare

Less appley than before, more pear

Bright sunshine helps her pierce my mind

I drop the beat this time

Lover’s lunches in clockwork fights

Both restricted and protected

By fellow diners who listen

To our out of time beat