Tag Archives: butterfly

Flight of Freedom

Flight of Freedom

North, south, east or west
which way they’ll go, we know not best.
The butterfly course is often loose
its hectic path we can’t deduce.

The hawk, it goes from tree to tree
and often times he’s hard to see
like where he lights or when he goes
or what he does or what he knows

That makes it hard to track his flight;
to keep him in your line of sight
because he hides against the sun
and climbs the thermals, one by one.

Until he’s all but out of view,
way up high against the blue
where he can see for miles around
the smallest thing that’s on the ground.

We’re surely jealous of his flights
his climbing prowess to awesome heights
his need of freedom, his view on high
of where he lives….up in the sky.

There is good reason to be like him
To live our lives…. at the brim
To protect all freedom from tyranny’s hold
and tell its story….’til all behold.

© 2012 t. j. gargano

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Filed under freedom, Hawk

Cottonwood Stream

If I write a song for you
and speak of beauty rare
the words I use will all be true
if I write a song for you.
Each word will tell a different view
and paint a picture soft and fair
if I write a song for you
and speak of beauty rare.

Sitting by the lazy stream
leaning ‘gainst the cottonwood
my guitar grabs a sunlight  beam
sitting by the lazy stream
and in that moment, as in a dream
she fluttered in time to my Brazilian wood
Sitting by the lazy stream
leaning ‘gainst the cottonwood

It’s nice down here along the stream
on spring like days when she drops by
and even if it’s just a dream,
it’s nice down here along the stream.
and while I know, it’s quite extreme
her mystic beauty, I can’t deny
It’s nice down here along the stream
on spring like days when she drops by

Waking me gently with fluttering wing
brushing her self ‘cross my eye,
she winks and smiles from the guitar string
waking me gently with fluttering wing.
And I feel thankful for these days of spring
and for dreams and for her….the butterfly
waking me gently with fluttering wing
brushing her self  ‘cross my eye.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under fairy, heart, rivers