The time and date is:
9:12 pm Sunday, 18 March 2018
* Home

* Ballads
* Ballad Features
* Burns
* McGonagall
* Other Poetry
* Scottish Writers
* Scots Glossary

* Alphabetical List
* Featured List

* List of Topics

* Scottish Songs
* Modern Songs

* Submit a Poem
* Submit a Song

* Copyright
* Permission
* Privacy
* Standards

Web Links
* Other Sites

* About Us
* E-mail Us

He Bought the Birds to Set Them Free ©

To the Father of Dream Machines...
Nat Hall
Sandwick, Shetland

On the hilltop he saw the prize;
On the paper he drew the wing.
The man-machine would shine and rise -
The cloth and ropes would fly the wind.

On market streets of the city
His avian friends awaited him.
With a few coins he set them free;
A heart so light - a wing so slim.

To buy the birds - to win the flight,
He watched them glide and felt the stream...
A breath of wing to kiss the light,
He stood on the edge of his dream.

The savant sketched the engineer;
The blueprint of the mechanic.
To scientists, their pioneer -
To the prelates, a heretic.

The surgeon eyes captured nature,
The skillful hands followed the line...
Mona Lisa kept her posture,
...The mystery behind the smile.

His passion for anatomy
Would propel man high in the sky!
Francis wanted philosophy -
The books remained quiet and shy.

They who'd be flying like a bird
Had to await four hundred years!
His wing does work - haven't you heard?
The Phoenix rose to new frontiers.

Web Site by IT-SERVE © 1999 - 2018 All Rights Reserved Return to top