formed in v they fly

o’er top o’me

bellies, usually driven snow,

this morning

honey dipped in hiemal morning’s glow

til’ falling, scrap and skreel

fo’ morsels discarded

by genteel and boor

for there is no inequity

in commission to cloy the

ever open maw

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I saw birds

flying high

in the sky.

I wanted to

join them but

I can't fly.

Sometimes I feel

low, and I

just want to cry.

My smile, for

you see it

is fake.

Cause my soul

it surely

does ache.

I look for

a glimpse of

peace, ...

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The shrill piping call of the returning Curlew

Contrasting with the lonely peep- peep of Golden Plover

Plaintive note of Peewit carried on the wind from its arching flight

Wading birds reclaiming their share of the corduroy moorland

Nesting sites found on drier ground among ling and crowberry

Ascending notes of Skylark lift the spirit and raise hopes

Honk of Raven ...

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