The Kite

The little kite I send;
Blue is the sky to where is goes;
By jerking and jerking the string attached;
The little kite rises hight,highter and more;
Till is meet the air stream up there above and rises;
When it misses the kite looses tempo and falls;
The string in the flyers hand has to adjust and follow;
When the wind is strong or when the wind is weak;
As it turns left or turns right;
It rises high or low down and falls;
Till it tunnes in with the force of the wind and pull of the reel;
Sometimes it's easy to control and sometimes it's hard;
But the flyer has to constantly adjust;
Forward or backward,to help keep the kite in the sky;
But never in life it suits with every desire of the flyer's wishes or will.

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