wishes and reality

Wishes and Reality

Let me dance to this Latin rhythm till my feet
are tired and I’m wonderfully beat, and I sail
on a cloud filled with youthful dreams, say,
brilliantly winning a medal for something or
other. It doesn’t matter what, as long as it is
of gold and the king of Siam pins it on my
chest, or on the lapel of my suit, (less painful
that way) with people running in the street
stuffing confetti into cannons and jubilantly
calling my name. When horses on the pampas
of Argentina, the Texas panhandle too, will
neigh, and fill the landscape with an aroma
of clover and elegant beauty. If not a cup, of
cocoa before bed will do nicely…thank you.