Its all Supposing 

Met her on a Saturday, Told her I’d make her queen for the day. She said, I can’t be bothered with that, and crowns always tend to make me look fat.

So I told her I would be back in a week. A sliming crown the was the promise to keep. She laughed and wished me bonne journée. Off to the Crownsmith, fiddle de dee.

Met her the next Saturday. Told her I’d make her queen for the day. She smiled and seemed quizzical. More like metaphysical.

Not quite what she had in mind. A brand new crown, but it’s upside down. She said can you imagine that, a crown that makes my head look fat.

Some days are forever and a day. Some days look the other way. She asks how it would look at night. Let’s lay by the stream and sort the sky.

Met her on a Saturday. I think it was in the month of May. Or maybe it was some other day. You know how memories go their own way.

Her eyes said yes, I’ll wear your crown. They spoke to me without a sound.

Where we go, no one knows it. Where we land its all supposing.