Soaring and swaying over craggy hills
How I long to be the mighty eagle.
Best when my strong wings stretch
And gliding, searching for food
To feed the miniscule fledglings.
After verdant resurrection, green leaves
Come to life, yet birds hide from
His majestic lofty strong eagle.
Pity the small ones could not stop
Their mellifluous lark-like songs.
Unfortunately small rodents are short sighted.
Along the placid lake rodents friskily run
In and out of the sedges. Food is now near.
Friskily frolicking I call it.
I don’t “play”
I friskily frolic.
Friskily frolic from far off field.
Far off field I will friskily frolic.
To and from
and back and forth
Friskily frolic for that flying fungo
Forever and all
I will friskily frolic
Friskily frolic when I play ball.
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