Flight In this quiet, little place, where I am at home. A space of green and natures call, a place to rest, a cosy nest. I need not things of comfort, to make me whole For things, being things, have taken there toll. A kind, gentle, voice that envelopes my soul cost not a penny But those are the longings that bind this ones, songs. So sing me sweet notes so that I might feel the wind on my face, The light in my eyes, and the clouds at my wings. Then cut the strings, to see if I soar. For if I would, I should surely come about and land alongside of yours. If I flounder, would you seek me out? Beyound the hills into the marshlands where the red wings make there nests. To let me mend until I can try the flight, yet again.
Reason for writing:
To those who never tire of helping others. For many have done so for me, so too, I will do.
Birth sign: Not entered
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