There were stories told about her hair
How dangling out the window curved
A brave lover dared to climb
Who woo’d her time and time again
Until she fled captivity
Did she bundle up her locks to flee
Did she sheer them off and hide the key
Did she stay the course with lover dear
Or did she veer away when the path was clear
Around the campfires late at night
They sing the tale of tail’s poor plight
How clumps and strands of golden locks
Were found within the Bear’s porridge
Wrapped around the table and every chair
Mounded on each size of cot
No footprints leaving through the mud
The theory is she’d had enough
Grew wings and to the skies she took
This is how the golden eagle came to be
When we reach the end of gilded tails
Look up and tell me what you see
