I was a nomad wandering
from dream to dream living
life with neither anchor nor chains
until I found your arms
then I wondered no more
why birds, born free,
would fold their wings
for a humble nest
in an obscure tree.
There, in your embrace, I knew
I’ve been searching for my place
to love and to be
that being held
my heart and soul were set free.
~~~~
Lovely Post.
Lovely!
Absolutely wonderful. Fantastic poem.
I am not sure if you know this but with my name being a bird, I so love photos and poems about them. 🙂 Smiles, Robin
I am glad you liked the photo, Reo. 🙂 Happy smiles to you, too.
Beautiful capture and words, Imelda.
Thanks, Jane. 🙂
Imelda, that poem brings all the contradictions of love out in the most beautiful way. Love those last few lines and the metaphor of the bird. Photo’s great, too.
Thanks, Brenda. 🙂 Isn’t love a weird thing?
Definitely.Most good things are weird. 🙂
Really very beautiful, Imelda. 🙂
Thanks, Jo. 🙂
That’s a sweet poem. Definition of “free” is extended 🙂
I love the flow of rhythm in the words, and got hooked straight away by ‘wandering
from dream to dream living’ . Idyllic image too 😉