Island of lost dreams...

Bare tree framed in the kitchen window,
The sun behind sinking low,
The end of another fruitless day.
We look at each other, across the chequered kitchen cloth
nothing more to say;
50 years of togetherness
And we still can’t say what we really mean;
Just that nothing is as it really seems;
As we wander alone, across our island of lost dreams.

You in your chair, and I, in mine,
Alone with your thoughts, and I without mine;
The end of another thankless day
Just doing what is necessary
To stop us going out of our minds;
As we complete another day in lifes’ lonely grind.
We had a life, but it can’t be seen;
And nothing is as it seems;
As we wander alone, across the island of lost dreams.

The leaves outside on the ground rustling in the breeze,
Quietly we sit, and sip, our scolding hot tea,
The beginning of another empty, vacant day.
We look at each other, across starched kitchen cloth;
Contemplating, blankly, lifes’ dark ugly wrath;
Just wanting to get through another day
To get through with nothing to pay – not wanting to know what it all means;
And nothing is as it seems;
As we wander alone, across the island of lost dreams.

Snow falls and a lonesome Robin scratches for food,
His desperate searching imitating our mood,
Winter is a time when we know we just have to endure,
Just have to sit, and stare, across that old kitchen table
To get through life, as best as we are both able;
Get the bills paid and maybe a short, welcome holiday,
Gambling and betting on a special lotto pay-day;
Still we know nothing is as it seems;
As we wander alone, across our island of lost dreams.

Spring is in the air now and the winter is gone,
The swallows are lively and bursting with song,
We are still alive, and, the world can do no wrong.
Still we gaze at each other across that old kitchen table
And know it’s the start of another year in our troubled fable;
We gaze at each other and know that love is blind,
Gaze at each other, not knowing what we’ll find;
Gaze at each other and know that it was the best we could find;
Still knowing that nothing is as it seems;
As we retreat alone, to our islands of lost dreams.

Copyright © DC 2009