Time and Tide
Sometimes, it seems, we wait for our dreams
we wait a bit too long.
Our childish dreams are the fount of schemes
though they maybe waylaid along.
We read of mighty Hercules and Odysseus on the sea
for they rush to sirens song.
We wait, and wait at unopened gates, until our psyche screams
your life must soon be born.
The Great Wall called, but I was too late, it seems
perhaps, I got it wrong?
The grandeur had left in shrouded seams
as we bore and birthed the throng.
The pyramids, the stone, the sand, the Kings, the royal themes
ravaged by man and time forlorn.
So, do not wait, at that gate, follow your childish dreams
for St. Peter waits at another gate when Gabrielle blows his horn!
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