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!