THE DREAM-TOWN SHOW
by: Ella Wheeler Wilcox
(1850-1919)
- HERE is an island in Slumber Sea
- Where the drollest things are done,
- And we will sail there if the winds are fair
- Just after the set of the sun.
- 'Tis the loveliest place in the whole wide world,
- Or anyway, so it seems,
- And the folks there play at the end of each day
- In a curious show called Dreams.
-
- We sail right into the evening skies,
- And the very first thing we know,
- We are there at the port and read for sport
- Where the dream folks give their show.
- And what do you think they did last night
- When I crossed their harbor bars?
- They hoisted a plank on a great cloud bank
- And teetered among the stars.
-
- And they sat on the moon and swung their feet
- Like pendulums to and fro;
- Down Slumber Sea is the sail for me,
- And I wish you were ready to go.
- For the dream folks there on this curious isle
- Begin their performance at eight.
- There are no encores, and they close their doors,
- On everyone who is late.
-
- The sun is sinking behind the hills,
- The seven o'clock bells chime.
- I know by the chart that we ought to start
- If we would be there in time.
- O fair is the trip down Slumber Sea,
- Set sail and away we go:
- The anchor is drawn, we are off and gone
- To the wonderful Dream-town show.
"The Dream-Town Show"
is reprinted from Good Housekeeping Magazine (January
1921). |
MORE POEMS BY ELLA WHEELER WILCOX |
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