Flying high, but not on air; oh tilting world.
Skies are fair as the sun is hauled into the skies,
as someone’s dream gravity defies.
Would that I was on carefree seas,
where all my woes flew with the breeze.
Through wave and wind my boat would go,
and sail and leave my cares below.
Wish I had you to sail with me,
then never would I leave the sea.
Written February 2012, Emma Dumitra.