I am a sometimes sailor with many
Ports of call. I am a dreamer and
I go where I go. There are only
Dreams on my itinerary- some
More vivid; some I like not at all
Some bright are not my type and
Some though dim are very rosey.
Between my voyages I know not
No thought and when I wake I
Have no idea where I've been or
If any time has passed. I am dead.
Then I dream again waking from
The deepest sleep. That's the way
It is. Nothing lasts but the trip it-
Self. I cannot count how many
Times I have died and rose again.
As the old woman said: You call
This living! It is a sham. To which
I reply a sham for you my darling
And most becoming. She makes
No answer but I I see the a twinkle
In her eye and that for me is good
Enough; Makes all the difference.
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 10:57 AM UTC
I am a sometimes sailor with many
Ports of call. I am a dreamer and
I go where I go. There are only
Dreams on my itinerary- some
More vivid; some I like not at all
Some bright are not my type and
Some though dim are very rosey.
Between my voyages I know not
No thought and when I wake I
Have no idea where I've been or
If any time has passed. I am dead.
Then I dream again waking from
The deepest sleep. That's the way
It is. Nothing lasts but the trip it-
Self. I cannot count how many
Times I have died and rose again.
As the old woman said: You call
This living! It is a sham. To which
I reply a sham for you my darling
And most becoming. She makes
No answer but I I see the a twinkle
In her eye and that for me is good
Enough; Makes all the difference.