You said I was your dream since we were eight.
But what they say about dreams coming true is right.
One chases another once it is achieved.
And so you did.


Sail away.


To where the tulips grow
And trees are yellow
To where the fountains are
Where wishes I can blow.


To where the water is blue
The sky is always clear
To where the white powdery sand
And the waves lapping by.


To where the sky is yellow, red and orange
As the sun sets at the far west
As the black night sky clears
To pave for the stars and the moonrays.


To where the grass is green
And the air is sweet smelling
Where I walk barefoot
To the earth’s soft and brown.


To where I wake up to the sun’s light
Inching it’s way and shining bright
And then at night as I lay
Dreams are all coming it’s way.