If only I had wings.....

From aeroplane high above
Where eagles and condors fly,
Hid well among low mountains
In Argentine’ mid-summer sun,
Golden lakes and silver rivers,
Simmering and shimmering,
Patient-wait for replenishment
By winter’ snows and rain,

As distant mountain snow-caps
Signpost us on our journey from
El Calafate, in Patagonia,
To Argentina’s southernmost tip
And the city of Ushuaia.

If only I had wings: if only I could
Fly I’d spend my time here up
High floating freely like a bird
In Argentine’ mid-summer sky.