Collector of Dreams
Gypsy soul searching for its home
But I'm not getting any younger
The lines run deep on my wind-worn face
The years and their time always leaving their trace
The stories they tell
The places they've been
Sure would be nice to go back there again
To a time when the road seemed so endless
No planned course, nor destination in sight
I can still hear my soul's whispering wishes
As I drift off so deep in the night
Kalidescope days and the ones that were plain
Are all part of my story
Life, joys and pain
Collector of dreams
Gypsy soul passing by
Bittersweet echoes
In a new babies cry
Have been part of my story-
Everchanging and raw
Reflecting its grandeur
In hindsight I saw
These lines on my face, yes, I'll claim them as mine
They'll remind me of times I've felt my soul brightly shine
So look onward you eyes sunk deep in the head
It is not over yet, fear not to tread
Those eyes that give hint
To the woman inside
The lover, the mother, free spirit and bride
Faded pages of chapters now blown away
Give rise to the guture as the dawn to the day
Hang on to those visions those dreams will unfold- if only in eyes that seem to grow old
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