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.