The Wanderer

A wanderer it seems, I walk all the way
looking for the breeze that blew along the bay.
Endlessly walking, shifting weight from side to side
here, I’m on my way to my little paradise
Reaching to where the oceans breathe
feeling the heights that the mountains reach
flying as  a young bird that just grew wings
yes, I’m on my way to the place where the angels sing.
 A wanderer or a lost traveler what so ever they say
I’m still sailing on my little ship to the land of hay.
Where the butterflies flutter their wings over the flowers
while the bees dance on the tunes of evening’s rosy hours.
Where the devils endeavor the gains of love
Yes, this is the place where I’ll now reside.