My love is a fair and distant land,
Full of simple joys and exquisite pleasures.
Full of simple joys and exquisite pleasures.
She is at once exotic and yet familiar.
I count well-spent each hour I wander her territories.
I count well-spent each hour I wander her territories.
How I long to explore her vast dominions,
How I yearn to delve into her mysteries.
How I yearn to delve into her mysteries.
My lips rejoice to speak her language,
But bitterly will my tongue form empty phrases,
But bitterly will my tongue form empty phrases,
For the urgency of routine has bid that I must quit her,
And return to the grey wasteland that is my home.
And return to the grey wasteland that is my home.
-- May 22, 1989 copyright © 1989, 2005
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