Somewhere. – I A poem
The lane is a highway to somewhere.
The street is a place no one cares.
The avenue is out of the running,
Though I could run, ’til I’m scared.
The lane sounds cosy and greening.
The street is all dirty and grey.
Trees make the avenue leafy,
From morn’ to the end of the day.
A pathway can be so inviting,
With people to pass by your side.
The Dell is a sleepytime hollow,
Where Will O’ The (Sweet ) Wisps abide.
A fairy ring, that’s what I’m after,
With wishes to choose where you will.
If only my journey was easy,
Not a dream nap on my windowsill.
At least, then, I’d control the roadway,
The lane where I wanted to be,
I would not be stuck in tomorrowland,
As the dream of my heart fades from me.
Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. September, 2014