The Bottle of Rum

My attempt at a Villanelle poem.

Let’s grab that bottle of rum;
sail the seven seas; just hold me tight,
as we run away to the to the field of daisies

planted with your green thumb.
I’ll watch you fly the kite,
As long as we grab that bottle of rum,

And forget how to dance to the drums.
Instead we’ll reach towards that blanket of stars.
I’ll say, let’s run away to the moon.

Leave behind everyone in the slums.
Never will they find us in the red-yellow lights,
Sipping on our bottle of rum, welcoming the sunset.

Board that ship, leave a trail of breadcrumbs;
I’ll come find you in the height
Of getting lost in the seas of our world.

You tell me, dripping of desire, of
Stories of mighty pirates, igniting
Us to drink a bottle of Rum,
and then you’ll say Let’s go.