I'll be wheeling free,
with only thoughts of thee,
some day.
Sailing the sea,
your hair windblown free,
one day.
Floating over a tree,
soon you and I are we,
to say,
We saw the shining star,
in the blackness of who we are,
to light our path for free.
We read the rights of man,
as far as the distance of ran,
because we can.
Yes, we can.
Because we're wheeling free,
no grease beneath our skids,
no egos, ifs, buts, or ids.
Free wheeling be we.
Flying Wheel
More Poems
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Read War's End, the Novel
Copyright 2010 © Ronald W. Hull
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