On Wing
The dragonflies are floating on the breeze,
The meadow larks alighting in the trees,
All is glistening with dew,
for the day is very new,
The flowers have begun to greet the bees,
The golden sun is rising in the sky,
It gently warms the earth from way up high,
I am resting in the shade
that the big, old oak has made
daydreaming what it must be like to fly,
I'm stretching out each strong and graceful wing,
I'm flapping toward the white and puffy thing,
As I beat against the air, I am rising way up there
toward the place where
God's angels flew to sing.
