Its not an easy breeze, when head on you fly, fighting to be free, of this deamon of the sky
The night winds, have powered the air, as if screaming, of the power thats there.
There very voice, could chill the bone, they enchantingly tease, with a breeze in tone.
Oh pretty bird, hear what this tone sings, its facination, are the voices of spring.
But the power, held in there hands, could tare apart, the beauty of the lands.
What chance have you, young bird in flight, all you have, is your own might.
Oh pretty bird, you need a change, flying with the wind, is not that strange.
For man in his ships, have powered there sails. you to can use the winds. when your strength fails.
Oh pretty bird, your sights a delight, when to me your riding, on a cool breeze at night.
By Donald l Holmes
