Looking over the horizon of a dreamscape,
I meet invisible ghosts in every dream,

Sometimes awake I dream of princess's and queens,
Dressed in blue and red standing at the ocean's edge,
White sand below their feet,

Beckoning me,
Come closer,
For pleasures to see,

All my hurt behind of me,
In whose heart will I be?

A warm breeze blows in the late night,
I kneel down before the ****** queen,

A lost man from the West,
Forgets ever going home again.

Copyright © 2016 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.