He was a Seagull..

He flew and he flew til’ he could fly no more resting in a wood.. there were oaks galore
And the pleasant ploughed pastures was certainly a change..tho where had the sea gone this was very strange..

He looked at the grassy land down below with so many different kinds of coloured flowers midst a meadow
There was buttercups with little bright yellow heads and white petalled daisies dangling on skinny green threads

Cows with their calves and Sheep with lambs were munching on the green grass down by the dams
And he thought to hiself this must be the countryside but it is no good for me.. I need the salty smell of the briney sea

Well he had tasted the treats as he scavenged from a bin tho he couldn’t find any fish and chips as he searched within
This living on the land was all very well but Oh how he missed his roars of the ocean swell

He was a Seagull not a countryside Crow.. both with very different lifestyles you know.. 
So enough was enough.. it was time to fly back home to the seaside where the ground isn’t dry
Where water is his playground and his reason to be alive as he scoops out his daily bread with a duck and a dive..