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If I could go anywhere, where would I go?
If I could be anywhere, where would I be?
I would love to be walking the streets of New York City,
or looking out the window of Starbucks on 6th Avenue,
where I vividly remember sitting, reading a book,
writing a poem, and enjoying a cappuccino.
I would love to go for a walk in Central Park,
hand-in-hand with my best friend,
and then sitting by the pond at the centre of the park
on a bench with not even the sounds of the city
to be heard, as we sit there in bliss,
as we hear the call of birds singing in the trees.

If I were to wake up in the morning and find myself in Georgia,
I would be over the moon.
Right at this moment, and almost constantly throughout the day,
I fantasize about climbing the Blue Ridge Mountains
and being inspired by my muse as she guides me
and shows me all the beautiful sights of the “Peach State”
and being in two states of America simultaneously at times,
because I will literally be able to walk and cross a state line
with the ease and simplicity of whistling a tune.

Listening to my favourite music with my friends, at the same time,
in the same place- all of us together for the first time ever-
would be so awesome and so epic hearing the same songs,
moving to the same beat would be one of the best,
the most perfect, the most amazing experiences of my life,
and the most fantastic and idyllic.

Eating an orange on a beach in the hot Florida sun,
would bot only be incredible right now,
it would be so much fun-
hearing the waves crashing, as I take a bite of every segment
of the most juicy and delicious piece of fruit I have ever had
in my entire life, would feel like being in heaven,
and I would give anything after finishing my orange
to be able to get up, take off my flip flops,
and go for a long barefoot run.

If money was no object, if any wish that I made could come true,
I would go to my nearest airport and I would book a one-way ticket,
I would go somewhere special, I would go somewhere new.
If the destination could be anywhere,
and if the means to get there could be any form of transport.
I would go to the place that my heart beats for,
and where I dream of being, fly off into the sunrise-
whilst all the while seated in my window seat looking out,
looking forward, while still holding on tight to my boarding-pass
and my passport.

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On a morning walk down the city high-streets,
passed countless people, passed shops,
stores, restaurants of all names,
I am stopped in my tracks instantly when I see
a Golden Gunslinger reading a book
while sitting at the foot of a tree.
I’m not sure how long he had been there,
I’m not sure what he was thinking,
but when I looked at him looking down at his book,
to me, the gunslinger looked
as if he didn’t have a care in the world,
and it seemed as if to the gunslinger
the rest of the world could carry on their way
because he was lost in thought, in state,
and frozen in time, but like a performer at a carnival,
the gunslinger sat with a tin pot
just to the left of his right boot
asking politely of his generous passer-by
for a token of interest, fascination, respect,
and a thought to show that they care.

I sat in-awe of the gunslinger on a bench nearby,
and I even took a picture-
I felt like I was looking back in time,
or as if the gunslinger had been transported to the future,
to our present-
and as I sat looking at him, the sun shone brightly on him,
and made him glow even more golden,
and he looked even more amazing than he did before,
and even the sky above looked even more blue.
I thought long and hard about approaching the gunslinger
and putting some money in his pot,
and I wondered what he would do if I did-
would he lower his book? Draw his gun and take a shot?

The incredible living-statue of the gunslinger
that mesmerised me, painted head to toe in gold,
in himself was a work of art-
he was so brilliant to behold,
because as soon as I saw him I was instantly transported
back in time to my childhood,
and my fantasies of wanting to be a cowboy.
The Golden Gunslinger was like a living photograph
of a time of adventure and a reminder of the heroes
and out-laws that fill the stories of the Wild West
that once was in America that for so many
still holds a special place in their heart;
The Golden Gunslinger reminded me of how care-free
and amzing it is to a child, or someone who acts on and follows
their instinctual passions-
whether you are a man, or a woman, a girl, or a boy.

As time caught up with me,
even though in all the time I was sitting there looking at
the gunslinger he did not move an inch,
I realised that it was time for me to move on.
I decided to approach the gunslinger and give him a coin
from my pocket to repay him for his time,
his inspiration, his generosity, and his golden spirit,
and even as I got closer and closer
he still didn’t look up or look away from his book
and didn’t for a second flinch;
and then, as soon as my £2 coin hit the rest of the coins
in his golden pot and made a sound,
The Golden Gunslinger suddenly came alive
and he looked up at me-
he lifted his left hand to touch the rim of his Stetson,
he looked right into my eyes, and I saw him smile
without him having to move his lips at all,
and he bowed his head slightly,
and it was in that moment that I smiled too
in appreciation, and I too began to shine as the sun shone.

As I stepped back the gunslinger reverted back
to the pose in which I first saw him,
and he immediately went back to his prefered-posture
of reading his book, at-ease against the base of his tree;
while I turned to my right and continued to walk down the high-street-
I didn’t look back, but I knew and I was so glad to have met him,
to have given him my time, and for him to have given his time to me
and to everyone who saw him, because he reminded me
in lots of ways of myself, and he was obviously someone
of great patience and a deep-thinker.
I promised myself to capture this moment that would never come again
in as much detail and with as much meaning as I could,
and I also promised that I would never forget
The Golden Gunslinger.

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