Obsession, it’s not healthy, but dreams keep him warm, although synthetic
Thinking from the backyard he looks up to the sky and he whispers

His head is caught up in the clouds once again
He swears that he will make them proud one day

Here’s a story
A boy and his dream
The one where oceans sleep where the sun retreats
Weaving through this sea of melodic mystery

Reaching from his swingset, says he “One day I’ll catch my own star”
He’s calling. Nothing could change his mind. This dream’s got his number

Let us recall the daze
In that one safe place
Swings, swinging to the beat of the sun.
The weeping willows sing in the wind
Whispering their stories to all who will listen
Swaying, chillingly in rhythm
The boats around him speak milestones
As he gets lost in the clouds
His thoughts brewing in a storm of azure and marigold
Reaching for the sky
The sand in-between his toes can swiftly
Weave him through this sea of melodic mystery.
He is the the dreamer of dreams
He reaches out his little hand
So close
So very, very, close.