Achaea

When I was young,

I dreamed of swords and dragon fire.

I dreamed a dream of ancient seas,

Crossed by the oarsmen of the Achaeans.

I dreamed of venturing across golden sands,

To win untold glories.

Yet as the waves roll,

The years have passed on by.

Now I dream a mightier dream,

As Odysseus dreamt under the trojan sky,

Of home.

 

© Michael Iannucci-Berger

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