If money grew on trees
And the oceans dried up to a puddle,
If the wind blew itself
Out into space
And left us in a frightened huddle

Would we be happy?

Would we sit together
Under our money trees
Waiting for the fruit
To fall?

With one hundred money trees
Where would we store the fruit
To stop it being eaten by mice?

Would fat locusts
Come in great swarms
To nibble away at the leaves
Of our money trees?

Who would help me
Guard my money trees?
Would I trust them?
Perhaps I should grow just
One tree
But would it be enough?
I would guard it myself
And give you the fruit
Neatly stacked in two inch wads
And bound with my heart.

But then, might some disease
Attack my money tree?
Would there be enough water
If all the oceans had dried
And the air had gone
So I could not hear the rustling
Of its leaves?

Perhaps it would be better
To grow apples on my money tree.
Apple blossom smells so much sweeter
Than the scent of money.

You could pluck the apple
And you would give it to me
And with one bite
For the first time I would see you
In the full knowledge
Of your beauty.