summer slept a jasmined night
Among the Acapulco-Woodstocked fields.
Competing forces swirled while out of sight
The filial spears kept hurtling through our shields.
The floating home in City Island served
To crystalize a life of sinful lust.
The call from Acapulco only swerved
Attention to the beach that caused the fuss.
From there to Yasgur's farm did not take long
And I was of the few who really paid
But slept through shoddy shows of drug and song
And with more flower girls hoped to get laid -
Those wat'ry wilds whispered winds of when
Our armor might be pierced by storms again.