His Dream

His dream is a small house beside the sea Of any cares he then may well be free Far from Suburbia and the noisy town Where all day long the cars buzz up and down The busy streets where pollution is rife He longs for something else the quieter life In grove by the sea the birds whistle and sing And to his dream with reverence he cling. He does not ask that much of life at all And one might say that his dreams are quite small A small house by the sea and little more Near where saltwater waves lap on the shore. One might say that his type of person rare He does not wish to be a millionaire A small house by the sea that is his dream He does not ask too much of life 'twould seem.