by “Hello,” I whisper.
“Good evening,” someone replies.
“I swear I’ve never been here before,” I say.
“You just can’t feel it yet, come a little closer. Think a little deeper. Wish a little harder,” they say.
Gold is such a beautiful colour they say,
The shine, glitz and glamour.
Metallic like a trumpet,
Or trombone, french horn.
Stars in the sky seem golden.
I know they do to me.
“Why?” they say.
“Why not?” I ask back.
The world turns with gold inside,
Hidden maybe forever.
Fools seen in history,
Maybe they really,
Still, hide the stash they found.
Wouldnt it be crazy?
If some time, lately,
The gold raised from the water.
From who would it be found?
“Do you see that?” they asked.
“No, what does it look like?” I said back.
The clock strikes,
Maybe with a piece to show the line.
Three, two, one,
It helps to know the time.
“It looks like a person,” they mentioned.
“Are you sure that is not a reflection,” I say.
Watch for the gold in the world.
It may have something to say.