Montage

After the tyranny of time takes its toll;

And there are no more lands: unchartered;

I will take you to a place;

All mine;

On every corner of its mystical garden;

I will show you my name etched on a tree;

Below yours.

A little coastal town;

Where only small boats go;

Where children toil about;

With merriment and a reckless predilection for their dreams;

A place designed by you and me;

In our heads; currently taking a beating;

By the prejudices of the coming hour.

I will show you my spot; over a cliff;

Overlooking a lake;

Where a small duck wags its tail;

Fondly followed by her ducklings;

Reflecting unevenly in the ripples they cause; Wrapped in pleasure;

Pleasure of being undisturbed and unthreatened.

Every day with the sun; we shall rise;

Fall in love; all over again;

And with the sun; we will set in  bed;

Waiting to rise again.

I shall write stories of our adventures;

Here and before;

And read them to you;

Like an old bedtime story of the past;

The ones where only happy endings exist;

Like the ones your grandmothers read to you;

On cold winter days; to fill you up with warmth;

We shall pass our time watching the rain drops race;

On the window pane;

Against the backdrop of a wet dawn;

And grey sky.

We will sail away into the horizon;

On a small raft;

Passing through the memories of our old lives;

And thank each other for this place;

We live in;

A place of our own.