| Her words were neither frivolous nor lazy. The soft plodding of her hoofbeats seemed like the tick tock of an old grandfather clock wrapped in a cotton cloth. The autumn trees were already losing their feathers, their plume. The air smelled crisp and fresh with the aura of burnished and tawny leaves ascending from the sky like angels from heaven. To the east, the sky showed a lake of clear blue into which the suns double would tremble whilst rising. It was a particular blue, made of light and darkness mingling, clear as glass, smooth as glass, as much like water as is sky. The trees rocked in ther 'moorings'. Quiet as kittens, the water lapped at the trees. In the East, that first blue lake increased into an ocean. The sun rose. The air shimmered with golden light. Water reflected and brightened the air. The colors of the trees became clear; viridescent, mahogany, russet, burnished crimson. She watched Childs Play, happy and excited to train her. Exultant at the fact she had been chosen.
A lonely seagull flies the winds. Majestic...soaring..gliding wings.
A single screech sounds from the sky. Come fly with me...come here and fly
My spirit floats to be a part. I feel the beating of it's heart.
My soul, one with this bird of sea, Now knows the meaning to fly free
I feel the winds caress my soul, And soar the streams without a goal
My being trembles of delight, A treasure I received tonight
The seagull's flight of soaring high, The gift of what it means to fly
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