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Where would I live if I were richest, and had all the money in the world?
Outside the square box, where no doors exist, and locks will never block
My entrance or exit, without four walls or framed bricked structure this
Is where I’d live and do now!
Again I’m asked where this address is, what fancy abode or country,
This location the French Rivera, or maybe even the city of romance Paris?
Nope none of these places will do for the likes of me, my substance 
Is worth more than glitz’s and glamour allow, after all am I not
The richest person in the world?
I live within the valley of the thunder storms heartbeat, where flesh
And bone melt together as one unit, here passions lightning collide
Against the rocky torrent of desires epic flame,
 Never to be extinguished or dowsed, by emotions ocean of doubt
Or regret!
But again these outsiders ask me once more but where, we’d like
To know, for we’ve never heard of such a place, give us the answer
To this riddle of yours Madame, for you are the richest person on
Earth the world must have the answer, as the paparazzi flash
Their gossiping, chattering, Cameras!
But these hungry mongers will never know the truth of the matter
At hand, for they’ve never experienced truth wealth of feeling,
Or valued anything but the almighty dollars golden card, of worthlessness!
Oh what an empty world, do these poor souls exist upon, a baron plain of
Dancing dollar signs, where false illusions seem real or tangible to the
Touch, but in reality are delusions images melting away, as time fades
The fame to the beauty factor unto nothing remains at all!
Nay I’m here in reality’s penthouse on high, beyond the fake staining of the
Smoke and mirrors game being played below, in this devotional residence
Without numbers!
For again the question was and is where would I live, if I had all the money
In the world, I’d live within the heart of this man whom dwells beside me,
He who’s sacrificed all for me, loved me always through thick and thin,
My shoulder of endurance and tenderness!
For what is true wealth my friend, but love itself my world begins
As his eyes open in the morning light, and ends when his close at night’s
Final twilight hour, where do I live within this man whom loves me!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
NOVEMBER 11, 2015
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BABY OF 55 THOMAS
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