Matthew Thomas Donovan

Now then, I would like to ask you/
What is a dream, if not unattainable?
Is a hope not meant to be faint/
Or a goal not meant to be far?

Is desire an ugly woman/
or a wife of half-decent appeal?
Is work not then to be passion/
or a blessing to unreel?

Is there a dream not beyond our grasp/
One easily caught by lesser hands?
Then is it a dream, if so easily clasped?
It's no longer a dream when it's in our hands