Rolling down the grass hill at Idlewild 
Round and round 
Topsy turvy 
The sky becoming the ground 
Ground becoming sky. 
My best friend and I tumbling— 
Squealing— 
Too fast 
Fast enough for excitement. 
So now, my love 
we are tumbling down the hill 
of love together 
The ground becomes sky 
and the sky ground. 
You scream— 
I cried.