Take me with you when you go.
Make room for my dreams
When we leave.
Bring your canvases, brushes...
I'll bring my funny soul.
Paint the butterfly on my
Shoulder...then hear the
Seagull laughter all around.
They laugh at us.
They think we cannot fly
Away with them into
The sky.
Who do they think is guiding
Their journey...they never
Looked over their shoulder.
Birds don't remember...
We've flown with them
Before.
elysabeth faslund
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gypsy-artist-gypsy-soul/
