Montag, 1. November 2010

The Seagull

Swing beneath the stars and find your place
Amongst the cliffs and grass.
Swoop smoothly, wing the air,
Let the breezes pass.

You are white and silken,
Gliding wistfully through the currents.
Sweep, dive, swerve through the crystal clear air,
And over the towering turrets.

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