The birds that fly south, sure know where it’s at, I no longer feel, I want to lay down my hat, when the wind begins to blow cold: my soul starts to shiver and my body feels old. Gone are the days of sunny old bliss, where nothing goes wrong and nothing’s amiss; each year when the fall peeks in by it’s nose, my heart starts to fall and my spirit erodes. Can you see how wisely those birds in the sky, start their annual trip to the south on the fly? They swoop and they soar with the greatest of ease, and the best of our pilots couldn’t fly better than these. I look up with envy each fall at the sky, and wonder how fine it would be could I fly? It’s just not the same going by discount airlines, where they always delay my departure into the skies, where they might lose my luggage, and feed me so bad that a vending machine, would be better it seems. While those Canadian geese have it made in the shade, Flying formation wherever they please, choosing those places where nature still lives, to rest for a time before before they go on. Till finally they find that winter place in the sun, where the water is warm and life just more fun. Give me some wings and let me fly quick! I need to get back to a boat that rides the wind, and sail on in the sun, then life has begun!
Reason for writing:
Brrrrrrrrrrr!
Birth sign: Pisces
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