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.
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