Poem 72 of 230: MILLENNIUM DREAMS

We can control our day's thought,
    But not our sleepy night's dream.
My dreams these nights are of this sort:
    Red earth; tanned grass; gums by a stream.

I'll do my bit from Manchester,
    But if again in Australia
I'm sure like this I'd fondly dream:
    Snow on swans; willows by a stream.

(P.S: I now live in Newcastle)