The sun would shine night and day,
   less the moon wandered out to play.
Snow would fall in summertime
   to justify the cold of winter's long rime.

The ocean and wind would adore
   that from their love we'd sail ashore.
Gold would simmer in a ***
   to be poured upon the poorest lot.

The clouds would be our softest thrones,
   and ev'rything beyond the blue we'd own.
Seasons would change if we wished them to
   because sometimes feelings grow anew.

The ships would anchor at the gate,
   and not one soul would ever be late.
Sparrows would sing of only happiness,
   and not one heart would know any less.

The cosmos would be in your hand;
   together, you and I, would always stand.
If we were gods and commanded this,
   you and I would be creators of ultimate bliss.