Frost's Dream Islet
his plane glides through whiffs
of lazy cotton clouds this crisp,
crystal midsummer noon above
a sky-blue, placid mirror ocean;
he gazes down at a green islet,
wistfully sighs, if only he could
be down there idling in the sand
'neath coconut fronds in the sun;
with a wry smile, he mumbles
to himself, and to Frost, he's got
lots of corporate promises to keep,
no time for the shortest stolen sleep.
Copyright © Romeo Naces | Year Posted 2006
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