Memory Of The Eagle Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Memory Of The Eagle
Eagles of midnight flow over me, soaring into the
heights above.
Disappearing before I can hold them in my mind, a
beautiful sight also eluding me.
Dreaming into the night, wondering if I'll ever
hold that eagle or it's spirit before I finally
expire.
Knowing that nothing else in life is important,
except that memory of the eagle at midnight, an
omen of tomorrow's riches in destiny's hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 8:21:26 PM # 1.0.0.1119
