are there the golden sounds of silence playing out to you, as the floorboards creek under the weight of a vase filled with spring flowers, glowing in the rays of the moonlight, overlooking a beach, touched with the footprints of strangers, with their personalities cast aside into the anonymity of the deserted carnival,which betrays the quietness with it's sweet candy fun of frivolity,as the screams of exhilaration drown out the crickets and dominate the airwaves,for what seems like an eternity, then and only then, do the shadows recede into the dark recesses of an alternative,which at the beginning was too difficult to understand or contemplate,until the serenity washed over one and the waves spilt their salted breeze onto a watchful pair of eyes, lost in a reverie of imagined reality and real imagination, as the bells of the campanile rang out in the celebration of life.
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