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FLYING FREE
by Anna Mae Wittig
Here at the water's edge I stand,
And let the world go by,
As gentle waves caress the sand,
I watch the seagulls fly.
To be that carefree seagull,
Not a worry does he know,
He glides so graceful on the wind,
Till it no longer blows.
Then to a 3-point landing,
Our finest aircraft put to shame,
For precision, grace and beauty,
Are the seagull's middle name.
Someone's always there to feed him,
And if not, he'll dive for fish,
If I can't come back and BE HIM,
Then to watch him is my wish.
For when my nerves are frazzled,
And the world seems much too tense,
When my mind's so stuffed wih knowledge,
That I'm starting to feel dense,
I just journey to the water's edge,
And close my eyes and see,
I'm gliding through the puffy clouds,
...My seagull friends....and me.
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