Down below the apple tree, washed out by the blood flood,
head down in the daisy patch... it was stillborn in the mud.
Three tiny hands were longing, stretching for a breast - it wasn't there.
Eight baby lips were puckered, antenna in the air. Nothing there!
Mummy took her lover by his green and purple claw,
quite resigned. "A second time! Let's try once more. A second time!"