Jack Vettriano's "The Singing Butler"

The angry words are yesterday and the rain
Is hardly falling, dear. The wind is something
Of a distant memory--the rush of the waves
And your beckoning arms are all that fill my
head today. The two, bless them, they came
with us, shield us from the wind and rain, though
it couldn't touch us anyhow. We're lost in our
world... unable to remember those days and times
when the roughness ripped our skin and our
anger cracked the glass like a poised hammer.
And so we're dancing to the rhythm of the outside
World, yet unable to answer its call. We're dancing
With the shoreline, laughing at the coming storm.
I have you and your strong arms today, and
Can but feel the ripple wind at my back as we
Move and sigh with the coming rain.