And the sun beamed its golden smile on me
As I walk this same old path
That I've tread a hundred times
The birds sing gleefully
And dance from branch to branch
While others flit and float and fly
Just beneath the sun-drenched skies
I am like the passing wind
A moment here, a moment gone
I wish I could soar above the noise
Like an eagle up on high
© 2010 The Poetry Wizard. All Rights Reserved.
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