I hear the church bells tolling at twelve. A cathedral proud and magnificent in stone. Embellished with gold richer over the ages. The cobblestone streets leading to new experiences of love and life. 

Another church rings it’s melodious bells. Five minutes late. Forgiving of a lazy wasted afternoon.

The chiming of bells continues in various pitches,each to their own rhythm. An independent note chosen by each lordly bell.

Sunshine.Floodlights once and filtered the next. Welcoming and warming from the crisp winds. Smells of croissants and fresh coffees brewing. Air slightly tipsy with whiffs of wine.

People,people in all colours…..dotting the scene like a hybrid garden in full bloom. Smiling,relaxed,tanned and flushed. And blushed. Vagabond feet Some in Comfortable keds or warm boots and some traipsing stilettos.

Hair in waves,floating in the wind,some red some brown some shining crowns.
Lovers kissing,and others being kissed by the winds of change. Some saving their souls and some their purses. Making memories and photographs. 

Kids in strollers and tentative little feet. Pattering out of synch yet melodious to musical notes filtering through the air. A saxophone somewhere, a violin sometimes,chelo occasionally and a guitar constantly. Playing an unplanned symphony. At times Accompanied by a sonata. 

Flushed red cheeks some because of the sun and wine and some because of love. Shopping bags with new acquisitions clothes and shoes,food and mementos. Albums filled with promises of pictures waiting to adorn walls across the seas. 

Old couples togetherness etched in they’re happy wrinkled faces and brides to be in flowing white candy floss dresses pristine with promises and denim jackets rugged with wild adventure and bridegrooms with rooted sneakers.
And bubbles. Soap bubbles. Big,huge,fragile, forming myriad shapes. Illuminated in the sunshine,transparent like hope with vibgyor outlines. Floating like dreams.

Only if I could share this with someone. Anyone.