Much was found within my dark red boat

relics of some small tropical islands remote

where we absconded one fine summer day

when all the others had jeered and turned away

we knew that our time had come at last

and how some people would be all aghast

at the insanity of our May-December tale

that prompted us both to set out our sails

the tides would be high this we surely knew

for many were the storms starting to brew

in the rough and wild waters that met us there

where many a fine sailor had been ensnared

many a boat had once tossed both you and I

after the lift and fall they lost to brighter skies

so ready were we lovers to take a big chance

on the ocean vast rumbles of our rocky romance

portholes to look out towards the beyond and see

the bobbing heads of the others who all disagreed

that such a small red boat could ever last very long

and that we’d be back once we saw we were wrong

Ah, but on this far horizon they did not count

dry land with so much life where we’d dismount

to greet what life gives all lovers to share for two

despite all of those "truths" which wise people knew