The Golden Eagle Fly The silence of the hunter Like a whisper through the air, As he scans the heath and heathered moor And rocky cliffs so bare, An eyrie built of branch and twigs Upon an outcrop high, The greatest sight of all to see The golden eagle fly. For there his mate with hungry chicks Is waiting on the nest, She keeps them sheltered from the wind Beneath her feathered breast, She calls across the valley With a shrill and piercing cry, And then before my eyes I see The golden eagle fly. He glides across the wilderness With sunlight on his wings, He soars above the mountain tops Unto his prey he clings, Then swoops along the river Where the rocks and boulders lie, The greatest sight of all to see The golden eagle fly.
Posted on: Tue, 25 Jun 2013 09:33:27 +0000
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