Dancing barefoot in her wildness
Under the blue dome above it all,
She plays among the primitive, childish
As she puts out a lustful call.
The ancient sentinels keep their watch,
Amused by her unbridled joy.
She’s one that’s hard to catch,
Ah, she’s no man’s toy.
Hers is a freedom untold,
A weary soul’s respite,
A passion uncontrolled,
But no longer desperate.
She cannot be caged,
Will not be imprisoned.
She’s won her war waged.
She’s a force driven.
She suffers no excuse,
Creates her own reality.
She’s become her own muse
Dancing under that green canopy.
~CWylde © 2016