I saw you walk to me, across
the Place Bellecour, and I smiled.
The shuttered windows
and my unshuttered expression
told you that it wasn’t the time for this,
but the recessed windows on the grey roofs
and the off-white brick told me it was.

I saw you walk to me, across
the Place Bellecour, and I smiled.
The spires of the distant churches
and the unbroken line of sight
called to you that we better hurry on,
but the lines of windows (like members of an audience)
shouted at me to kiss you.

I saw you walk to me, across
the Place Bellecour, and I smiled.
A deep blue surreal sky and the
whisper of a floating white cloud
shouted to you to say yes,
and the white cloud of up and above
cheered me on, evermore,
to Paris and to Lyon.

last night I dreamt of a world with no money,
100,000 sunsets passing without a clash of a coin,
and the ghastly humans with copper under their nails
who spend all day dreaming of having gold there instead,
were nowhere to be found. Lurking near the oak trees
(which always stand, perpetual and insistent)
are aliens with smiles (perpetual and insistent)
who only feel happiness (that strange, absent feel)
and have free time to do free things with free minds
and don't have mankind's titanic burden of worry.
in my dream state I dreamt of states with no war,
poverty or famine, and I dreamt of leaders leading
and people peopling, and indeed the leaders lead
with no other incentive than purely to lead.
no money built walls between homes and lands,
no barriers put up between the wild untamed landscapes
nothing stopped people from traveling their world
that their ancestors created for them and seeing the
sights before they pass to the next stage, all of life
being free of charge, if that were a thing.
money never happened and no man laid awake at night
(or in a deep calm dreaming state) wishing of a world
with money. what would we offer the dreaming man?
a world of misery pain greed and men who dream of
the world the first dreaming man is in? no. it is
ludicrous and ridiculous.
last night I dreamt of a world with no money,
and I turned my head on my pillow and tried to dream
of a lonelier world.

If I painted all the world
your favourite hue,
and lay it on your lap,
and sprinkled it with golden dust,
coming from the golden tap,
would you permit me
to hold your hand for now
(and forever more)?

If I discovered all the world’s
riches, put them all in your view
found the Holy Grail,
and gave it only to you,
would you allow me
the honour of being yours for now
(and forever more)?

If I climbed all the world’s
mountains, swam all the seas,
crossed every desert,
and saved all the trees,
would you let me
be your one and only for now
(and forever more)?