I Soar
The good earth!...ahh! its beauty
sloping down to golden river’s bank,
where trout and dreamy summit play
their game, a contest of who looks
longest, passers by or the tickled fish
and cumly eagle in her fortress nest
Yet is there a winner, who feasts off such
delight?
The latter in leaps and bounds astounds the
cornered eye: feathered lord of all surveyed.
Then smell the scent of bracken on the wind….
the eagle’s feather and crafty trout’s scale
intertwine, for pleasure and delight…no contest
to amend.
All’s well on the good earth!
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