Freedom’s just another word for floating on the breeze,
A flightless bird that’s found its song and wings,
A carousel suspended in current’s twirling ease,
Carousing, fulsome-throated as it sings.
Flight, another fantasy, for rising in the air,
Above the noise and fracking far below,
Penchant of the pensive and all dreamers everywhere,
New direction for a world that spins too slow.
Upwards is a preference as onwards to the wind,
Uninhibited, unleashed, euphoric verve,
Harmonious high in helium’d mind,
Flight of visions distant, sought by nerve.
scottishmomus 