A Wistful Whim

I dreamt of a home of my own as a child where the air is always pure and mild, Where birds and animals did freely roam and frolic in the soap bubbles and foam. A house on a tree by the rolling stream, Atop a vanilla cake or cherry ice cream, At the foot of a soaring crystal mountain with a dazzling musical water fountain. A house of candies, cookies and chocolate studded with pearls, diamonds and agate, Amidst a lollipops field or on the moon, Hugging the ocean or next to a lagoon. But I live in a hovel by the train tracks It rattles my bones and almost cracks, Ha, my sugar and honey dream goodbye I have the whistling wind for my lullaby.