Tired of searching for a dream
scrabbling for a distant star
everything seems so far and yet
the dream is rising like
curdled cream in coffee.

Every agonizing year, I feel
its presence, sometimes I
touch its burning heat and feel
the bite, yet only for a moment

Blowing in the breeze like a tired
flag, I am looking for the
wind to direct my focus
Tired of changing direction

to all the new writers trying to get published..dare to dream, so that others may as well..

I savour it like a fine wine,
whose smell
tells me of future success
vision provides direction and action
speaks volumes, the star is within
reach I have merely but grasp
it