Monday, February 18, 2013

Bedroom Blues for a Soul-child

A soul-child has no boundaries,
a soul-child weeps for those who cannot.
A soul-child works for all the things expected to be earned,
the sweat off the backs of those determined to be.
The soul-child plays in the gardens,
lay in the fields that caress the skin in the warmest places.
The soul-child free the shackles being placed on the soul.
A soul-child sings the loudest in the wake of a new day,
that time of day and night.
The soul-child loves the sunlight and dwell in moonlight.
The sun is hope, the moon path...
A soul-child haves a gypsy soul, a playful being,  a restless spirit,
a writers passion...
A million words for one thought...
A bed made of love and pain,
a cup of tea and toast.
For a soul-child is only wondering, only thinking about situations,
when the bedroom blues hit.

 Sincerely Fay,

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