She stood, her toes gripping the cliff edge <br />Each and every morning for six months long. <br />Stretching her wings allowing the warm up draughts <br />To catch, elevate and stretch, strengthen and mend <br />Her weakened wings. <br /> <br />At last there came a day. <br /> <br />Her toes gripping tightly <br />The rocky cliff face, she up rosé softly <br />soaring, carried away! <br /> <br />Having had completed wing repair. <br /> <br />© Calac<br /><br />Chris Lane<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wing-repair/
