I woke up this morning

and went down to my yacht,

flown there by my personal pilot.

I sailed the blue waters,

where the climate is hot,

then returned to my own private island.

Then it was breakfast at Tiffany's,

lunch in Milan,

then London and Paris and Rome,

then I stopped off at Vegas

to play a few hands,

of Black Jack before I flew home.

Meanwhile...

Back home in the real world,

in the cold light of day,

with the city streets coming to life.

My alarm clock reminds me

that there's a mortgage to pay,

though I still press on the snooze button twice.

But there's a train at the station

that's unlikely to wait,

at least it never has done in the past,

and a boss with no patients

who'll go mad if I'm late,

so I'm bolting my breakfast down fast.

Then there's the hard city sidewalk,

the cold ceaseless rain,

and the subway still three blocks away,

and thousands of people

on thier way to the trains,

and that's just the start of my day.

On the platform we're cramed in,

like fish in a can.

Not one smile between thousands of faces,

Men, woman and children

and babies in prams

all going to various places.　

But in that cramped, crowded carraige,

where we're jostled and churned

as the train hurls us all down the line,

Squeezed in so tight

that we all breath in turns,

I retreat to that place in my mind.

Where the natives are friendly

and bronzed by the sun,

and the cost is of little concern,

because I'm wealthy enough

to have nothing but fun,

my only worry, the fear of sunburn.

Where the champainge is vintage,

and served properly chilled,

by scantily dressed native beauties.

where all my ambitions

have long been fulfilled,

to where enjoyment is my only duty.

Where fast cars and jet ski's,

fine clothes and wine,

are as comon as sunshine and rain,

and Rolex and Gucci,

Prada and Cline,

are in my world, the comonest of names.

There, waiters don't look

for your name on a list,

or ask if your tables reserved,

the finest of things,

that the world has to give,

are mine, and so richly deserved.

Meanwhile...

Back home in the real world

my train has arrived,

and it jerks me awake when it stops.

All my dreams shatter,

as the doors open wide,

and the bubble I'm dreaming in, Pops.

As I search in my pockets

for clock card and keys,

I find a lottery ticket I'd bought,

then checking the numbers

with growing degrees

of excitement, my muscles go taunt.

Five of the numbers,

are winners for sure,

and I almost collapse with the stress,

then, with the last of the numbers

the platform erupts,

with some maniac screaming out

"YES!!!!!"

By S.E.Ralph..

20-6-2011