Flying Over Britain

England is a parlor puzzle
Of many small pieces
Alike but not the same
Green bits of farm and forest
Worn brick towns and agéd hills
Rivers winding gently
Man and Nature in blest accord.

Enter Scotland, obscured by mist
A wild beauty rarely glimpsed
Through tattered clouds
Rough-hewn Highlands
Storm-lashed islands
Rivers rushing swiftly
Wind and Sea in might adorned.