never say never

One of my favorite places where  I’ve never been
on the deck of a sailing ship, out on the ocean.
The boards are thick and smell of pine,
as a ballroom floor with satiny  shine…
o’er looking green hills that slope to the sea.
Where sweet maidens whirl in fine silk dresses
in powdered faces and warm shining  eyes,
dancing in time with the orchestra’s strains.

Back on my ship with the music still dancing
and humming gay tunes that remember …
my heart yearns for places that might have been;
for the deck boards of pine that echo sweet tunes
wafting o’er the salt-tinged breezes of  memories…
or dreams…of nights that might have existed
in one of my favorite places where I’ve never been.

© Sometimes, 2016

dreams of day

Days go by in dreams…
more complicated, it seems,
day-dreams pass away…
are replaced by dreams of day.

Not intended to be obtuse,
or in any way clever, or to abuse,
by flippant tries to make a verse,
or to neglect decorum in place of subterfuge.

Dream places are often familiar,
if not in actual points of reference,
at least recurrent and commonplace
locales to retreat for reassurance.

© Sometimes, 2016

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