Gondola Dreams


Row me on your gondola,
‘Neath the royal bridge.
Marble, carved and hewn,
And rocks – just a smidge!

Row me on your gondola,
By the palace grounds.
Perhaps I’ll catch a prince,
Get yearly a thousand pounds!

Child, there’s no gondola –
We’re not in sunken Venice!
Now wash those dirty hands
Or you’ll be a public menace!


Then buy me a gondola,
And row me all around.
We’ll go see Nan in Manchester –
Daddy, how’s that sound?

We’ll paddle the waters:
Over the sea to Skye,
Across the pond to India,
To London for a pie!

How ’bout we cross this bridge
And see the other side?
Perhaps it’s the grocery shop,
Perhaps we’ll play seek and hide!

Sounds great, Daddy!


Hokay, so, this is a wee bit late – but the story in the poem came right to my little brain-o when I saw the prompt picture on Crimson’s Creative Challenge #81.

18 thoughts on “Gondola Dreams

    • H.R.R. Gorman says:

      I was thinking more the other side being imagination, but I can see now what you were getting at. Interpret however you like – it’s always been my belief that half the work is writing, and half the work is reading!

  1. robertawrites235681907 says:

    This is a lovely poem, H. Hubby and I were discussing where we want to live when we move to the UK at the end of next year hopefully. He said Skye, I told him he will be living there on his own. Very lovely to visit for a few days but I am a museum and historical places type of gal, not a nature one.

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