Dream Weaver
Moon dancer, in your petticoats, swirling on the lawn,
dewdrop drinker, night wind stalker, daughter of the dawn.
Castanets coil your fingers, diamonds drape your toes;
not equal, but greater, if with normal juxtaposed.
Beautifully different, a gypsy sort of soul,
one, who out of nothing, music can cajole.
Lightly stepping, ever reaching, walking upon air;
if searching, one will find you climbing heaven's stair.
Don't let the stale world change you; continue to pursue
your dreamy fabrication--living impromptu.
Copyright, September 28, 2014
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014
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