Like a little parakeet, her body soft, her beauty sweet
She takes her water and her bread, never hungry before she’s fed
She sings a song that’s all her own within the cage that is her nest
Oh for freedom’s rarest gift, she’d forsake the safety
Of her wired home, to seek that which the wild bird knows
Light her feet upon sand or bruise her wings in foreign lands,
Enjoy the company of another to fly away before she smothered;
If destiny did not bound her to the sky, she’d seek the heavens for to fly,
Touch back down when need be, to remind herself that she is free
Perched upon a beaded swing, her world a little house so fine
Sings a tune pretty to every ear, but sad the melody of her mind
(photo credit: <a href=”https://www.flickr.com/photos/thomashawk/5581519819/”>Thomas Hawk</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/”>cc</a>)
sheilapierson 
Glad to see your thriving yoga business hasn’t kept you from writing beautiful words!
It almost has!! But when you need to write, nothing stops you 🙂
🙂
Smiling!
Indeed appearances and songs…can be deceiving…a fine verse IMHO.
Thank you always 🙂