Doug Jones - Wistful

the lake, the soothing beckoning lake
she gently calls me 'come, ride my wake.'
I daydream on dryland of her moist hands
yearning for my watery companion
soon I'll float care-free on swells
of aqua-blue dreams I know so well
far far from lifes twisting vine
washed clean, frozen in time

Doug Jones

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wistful-3/