Coin In The Fountain by Mike Williams 01/23/2016 @ 9:31 A.M.

I was all of twenty three when I made a simple wish. 
For sping had came to visit me after winter's long abyss. 
Gray skies gave way to sun and the snow had disappeared. 
The little crochus raised their heads to smile and happily peer. 

The quartet strung its melody atop of Bad Herrenalb. 
I took the train to Nancy and Metz to ease winter's long looming doubt. 
There a fountain babbled and dripped in the golden sun. 
And I had a pocket full of coin and slowly fished out one. 

I felt alive and never wanted to leave, but knew that soon I must. 
And kissed the coin, the abode of all my hope and wishful trust. 
One day I would soon return and revisit this land of forest, flower, and mountain. 
Then tossed my coin into the clear waters of that glorious fountain.