How nice it would be,
In a house by the sea,

To watch the waves rock endlessly,
Crashing and spraying,
Whispering hints
of an ancient melody.

How lovely to think,
In a Victorian, pink,

We’d dance the waltz in sync
Swaying to Brahm,
Your hand on my arm,
Your eye to me did wink.

What a dream, in a cottage
On fields of green-

To grow a garden quite serene-
With pumpkins and squashes,
Treading goulashes,
We’d make sunshine out of rain.

But then again-
How nice and lovely a dream
Any life with you does seem.

We’d plant our feet in whatever stream
And grow old together,
You and me.

Through the towns and country lanes
fortress walls and ancient stains
Roman treasures, aquaducts
the running bulls, a stroke of luck!

Cobblestone and feudal cracks
the culture weaves and summer smacks!
enchanted ramparts, medieval ruins
coliseums and communes

Aigues Mortes to Avignon
the rolling hills and castles strong
fields of grape and olive trees
cicadas singing on the breeze

Tranquil rivers, lost lagoons
horses prancing at high noon
flora and fauna in lofty decree!
say the sycamore and cypress tree

De Lumières in tomb-like calm
illuminating sounds of Brahm
Vermeer, Picasso and Van Goh
the ghosts of Voltaire and Rousseau

Les Baux-de-Provence's immersive stage
brush strokes wide from another age
chambers deep at quarry rock
the mesmerizing notes of Bach

Sacred figures, holy shrines
monestries in grand design
blocks, arches and polished stone
gladiators at the throne

Castle turrets and dungeon bars
the ancient bridge of Pont du Gard
chapel bells across la ville
spiral stairs where time stands still

Scrolls and chronicles filled with scars
church and state with dark memoirs
scholars, artists and dignitaries
in pursuit of God...and all his glory