Meet me in an old bookstore, where the scent of pages harks back to the time when people used to live what they read.
Meet me on a rough grassy path in the park, where people used to walk to breathe, where there is a scent of wilderness to keep.
Meet me on the footsteps of a rainbow dream, where the colours are from your laughter, and where you find angels in the depths of your sleep.
Meet me on a cobblestoned street, where once mighty armies marched to a beat, where bugles sounded even in retreat.
Meet me on the strains of a guitar, where the rhythm lives inside you even as it hits you from afar.
Meet me in the rhythm of a song, when they play majestic violins as they sweep over the sea, where the only ones dancing are you & me.
Meet me in a poem, where the words are woven in a symphony, of timeless desire, of poignant pain and sighs of delight.
Meet me on a piece of paper, where timeless ink has left its mark, where the music is written but the song has yet to start.
