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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required This gypsy soul is on the road It leaves castles far behind It abandons ghostly mist which sabotages the caravan of life It passes along the mountainside by golden hay fields where daises bloom By streams of waters which sweeps a withered rose towards the decayed lumber fume This gypsy soul is on the road from Edinburgh to Loch Lomond against high winds,against the rain,against aquatic monsters of pain This gypsy soul is on the road to the woodlands of your heart where I would camp inside your tent as our blissful thoughts impart This gypsy soul within myself and all the woman in me would wantingly await your fingertips to compose soft pastels'fantasy The smell of early coffee then fills our empty cups The song of the cicada would echo in the shrubs And as the chimney smoke drift sideways in the breeze as warm dappled light filters through purple pansy leaves The pressing of my lips would leave their crimson mark below your sun-kissed cheek My arms would cling around your once muscular physique We laze upon a hammock strung between two old oak trees I play on your guitar my hundred melodies As the incandescent half moon rises above the dusky hue and orange paper lanternes float high in cobalt blue We'd chase the opalescent glow of a million firefly You'd be able to touch me before last embers die This gypsy soul is on tne road in search to be set free Across bridges on a journey,your compass -my destiny. This is a repost of a poem I've written the 30th of April 2014
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