wint'swords

The eagle soars high, in the evening sky, looking for super, with it's keen eyes. The eagle, moves it's mighty wings, to climb, a little higher, so it can glide, for many miles, down the valley, so it will not tire.

Gazing out my window, I see, the sun trying to hide below the western hills and the out stretched limbs  of the many hardwoods. God gives our eyes, to behold, such sights are worth, more than silver, and more than gold.