Honest men have honest dreams, or so they say.
I dream not of power or even wisdom
and scarcely do I find myself
lost in visions of wealth.
No, when I dream,
I dream of you.
I dream of an emerald valley
and in this valley bloom wild sunflowers,
their radiant golden petals dancing in the breeze,
and on this breeze dance you
and I.
Your kiss ,
like morning dew and eyes,
like summer sage
honest men have honest dreams
and I dream of you,


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