An aspiration: A poem 

O the clouds are beyond reach 

So is the horizon on the beach 

I have but a little dream 

The banks of a winding stream 

Dark is the moonless night 

when the stars are out of sight 

I fail to mitigate my plight 

even though I’m dressed in white 

Meek is the wind on my face 

where the weary traveler can’t find solace 

The grains of sand slip through my palm 

Time is a burden on my arm 

Will I discover before it’s too late? 

A wisp of an entreaty I make 

That while in patience I wait 

benevolent and not blind be fate