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The Dream Town Show
a poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Here is an island in Slumber Sea 
Where the drollest things are done, 
And we will sail there if the winds are fair 
Just after the set of the sun. 
'Tis the loveliest place in the whole wide world, 
Or anyway, so it seems, 
And the folks there play at the end of each day 
In a curious show called Dreams. 

We sail right into the evening skies, 
And the very first thing we know, 
We are there at the port and read for sport 
Where the dream folks give their show. 
And what do you think they did last night 
When I crossed their harbor bars? 
They hoisted a plank on a great cloud bank 
And teetered among the stars. 

And they sat on the moon and swung their feet 
Like pendulums to and fro; 
Down Slumber Sea is the sail for me, 
And I wish you were ready to go. 
For the dream folks there on this curious isle 
Begin their performance at eight. 
There are no encores, and they close their doors, 
On everyone who is late. 

The sun is sinking behind the hills, 
The seven o'clock bells chime. 
I know by the chart that we ought to start 
If we would be there in time. 
O fair is the trip down Slumber Sea, 
Set sail and away we go: 
The anchor is drawn, we are off and gone 
To the wonderful Dream-town show.

The Dream Town Show a poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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