I used to fantasise
About a girl who walked
And talked
With me.
I saw not her eyes,
But we,
Were free
As the tide, which comes and goes,
In gentle flows,
Or with tempetuous roar
O’er the thirsting shore.
Barefoot, and hand in hand
We walked along the sand
Of some dream-like beach.
But no man can command
A fantasy,
And she,
I can not reach.
