Flight to France

In this metallic tube I am trapped,
Within a body of a bird free winged,
yet the wings aren't flapped.

I feel a sense of direction,
As this flight takes me back,
Like my own style of animal migration.

Feelings of peace and serenity take over my senses,
As I overt my eyes to the window as it flirts,
Flirting with the view of the majestic mansions with their 10ft fences.

Sights of never ending beechen forests and lakes so grand,
The guitar shaped field reminds me of the sweet tunes of Ludo,
Bringing a harmonious feel to the already beautiful meadowlands.

The euphonious sounds of prententiousness flow
And perfectly combine with the sweet birds eye view of the french riveara,
The south of the country displays such a natural heavenly show.