Just Take Me to the Golden Shore

blessing roads (what we don't take, though we should),

kites midair (what heights we wish we could attain),

salty seashores (what we wish could color our senses)—

sorry to say, I'm missing you again (what we wanted least),

down by the waters of the golden beach where we first met.

youthful vigor (what we hoped for, what we lost, what a world),

cracked shells (what we loved, what we collected, what a sham),

sandy footprints (what we hated, what we left, what a mess)—

sorry to say, I'm wishing you were here (what we wanted most),

down by the waters of the golden beach where we fell in love.

orange sunsets (what we watched every evening without fail),

noisy seagulls (which we laughed at despite all their chaos),

white curtains (which we wanted to change but never did)—

sorry to say, I'm thinking of you again (what you wanted).

so I'll go down to the beaches that were touched by Midas,

the shimmered hue like something out of a jeweler's catalogue,

and there I'll remember the days of who I was way back when

you were mine and I was yours and the golden shore was ours.

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