Westward Ho?
Dreaming of life in the old Wild West,
Tumble weed blowing past the saloon doors,
High-noon shoot-outs with the sheriff.
Cattle drives through the parched dusty plains,
Making fortunes in the gold rush and railroad booms,
A dream that died long ago in reality,
Yet grows ever stronger in our hearts.
Dreaming of making it into Western Europe,
Escaping the tyranny of the old Soviet Block,
Meeting all your estranged family in the west.
Dreaming of the first world countries where people were free,
Now the Berlin Wall has fallen and Germany is one again,
Now some of the former Soviet republics are finding freedom,
It's a dream that coming to life but still needs to be fought for.
Dreaming of being Westward Ho! On the high seas,
Swashbuckling against pirates and buccaneers,
Pieces of eight in the hold and wind in the sail's,
Roaming across the seven seas looking for adventures,
A dream that's reality for just the billionaires in their super yachts.
By Christopher Tye
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem