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
