Our fancies fly unfettered in our youth
Until pulled back to earth by stubborn truth.
And thus, some youthful dreams ne'er pass the swale
And end, beached on the sand like troubled whale.
Years pass and dreams yield to the daily grind
E'en though small actions triggered by the mind
Against the flow of time futilely flail
For dreams beached on the sand like dying whale.
There comes a day when our life's course is set;
To turn, one's forced to storm a parapet,
Years-built with toil and love - thus few assail
For dreams beached on the sand like bones of whale.
And when we near the end, we oft look back,
See taken trail was true, the rightful track.
Yet fond reflections sometimes wistful sail
To dreams beached on the sand like thoughts of whale.
Dennis Lange's Other Poems
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