If dreams could be bought and sold,
There are some ages old
That I can trade for a few
Delicately made anew
Some yours for me
Some mine for you
For if I go on further from here
Longing that which I endear
And have been for so long
That now I belong
To them more than they to me
And knowing fully
That a path that meanders
Beyond one's ken and blurs
Into woods, ought
To be trodden if not
With a wanton heed
Then with judgment instead,
I shall be leaving behind
More but merely doors
Ajar, perhaps a mind
Only closed, that sees shores
Clashing with tide
And thinks that ocean alone
Hath to offer on other side
A new world or even a horizon.
