Sharp wings slicing gales
Gravity's laws recind
Fly beyond the pale
The greater the height
The broader the view
To climb is to fight
For what's seen by few
The air is cleaner
All barriers below
Senses are keener
No stopping the flow
Ecstasy in freedom's rush
When your wingtips
On God's face brush
©️Sylphide poem/2020
No comments:
Post a Comment