By Merling Dennis Clyde
Winged as the wind they wind through the skies,
White as the drifted snow,
Careening in great stately flocks they fly
Here and there, where the plow-shares go.
Screeching, screaming, they scan long rows of brown
Where weary horses plod,
Lightly, as feathers blown by wind, come down
Gracefully on the upturned sod.
God in His Infinite planning so wise
Fashioned the seagulls bold,
Combined in them beauty to sail the skies
With worth to man’s need more than gold.
Beauty, utility – rare gifts have they;’
Purpose behind the Plan.
God sent the Seagulls when Faith paved the way,
When asked, proved His promise to man.