by Nathaniel Greene
The falcon that flies so high, I ponder where she goes.
Flying through the trees, into the sky, through the dust and the wind.
She is very fast and a pretty little thing, birds like her love to soar and glide.
She soars to the ground to catch some mice, catching them twice.
She hears some cries, baby bird cries.
She flies with the mice in tow.
She lands in a nest, a big little nest and feeds her young.
She gives them love and little baby bird hugs.
Then again she flies through the trees, into the sky, through the dust and the wind.
Soaring so high into the sky, I ponder where she goes.