Flaky Freedom
The far fetched free spirit
Far from being understood
Far from being fetched.
The endless wagging tale
Unpredictable
Fleshy
Flashy
A bohemian blessing
I breathe in gypsy breath
Inhaling the rhapsodical rush
Sharing the swollen songs
Of flowers, sunsets and old forest trees
I boogie barefoot
Strutting with attitude
Spinning stories
As I move to the music
Whirling my bragging shabby skirts
Like those wandering grandmother spirits,
Those soul sharers
With unsettling nomadic wisdom . . .
Dessert before dinner please!
Make it flaky
Make it free
Anke Hodenpijl
October 5, 2012
Oh my, so many wonderful phrases in this poem! "I breathe in gypsy rain" is just exquisite, and I can't help but grin at the image evoked by "whirling my bragging shabby skirts." Great job, Anke!
ReplyDeleteLike my favorite Sinatra song lyric, 'These vagabond shoes are longing to stray...' Your poem is lyrical in the best sense--I feel like singing it. I almost hear the tambourine, and now a sorrowful violin whispers in my ear...
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