Bohemian Blue Poem by Andy Brookes

Bohemians wear blue she said....and yellow... and red.... and green;
for she was, for all her bravery, hesitant.
like the trees they have no master.
Liquid lake ripples were her words, she who licks her wounds,
bleeding into the souls red herrings and pink flamingos,
harsh words breaking her butterfly wings.

a dancer on pin heads she said as she floated through life,
on scented incense clouds, covering her mirrors to the truth
for each hurt, each bite, diminished her; for as she said
bohemians wear only the ethereal rainbow and that is soon washed away.