this quiet
high in the iron wood
verses and musings of j stoeckmann, all rights reserved.
high in the iron wood
We value the shy if they have feathers, Glorious colors and song their compliment Soaring high apart and gliding past
Take this oak its broad umbrella green and massive Leaning comfortably upon its nest of feet below Without a care
She tends patiently her nest Ignoring mates showing off their best There the battle rages diving over Feathers blazing all