On sweet golden wood decked in yellow

Is my love of ochre from you?

A fantasy glimpsed in old posters

A place where poor children are few

⦿

From a farther realm now you are calling

Bright image, uncharted, at sea

Your home somewhere richer and darker with meaning

Not timeless nor faded but free

⦿

Let me sail down to Rio within you

Let me hold and be cherished in turn

Let us fire up the space where the dance is the grace

Then back let us wave while we burn

⦿

©Stephen Tanham

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