The air with filament tones abound,
with heartache and regret,
through bone and beak, the notes resound,
with love they can't forget.
In company she's barely seen,
judged societies outcast,
to meet with her you want be keen,
feathered sentinels stand fast.
Her name belies her state of mind,
comfort plays no part,
her quest pertains her man to find,
vowed, 'till death do us part.
Solo is what Sola does,
and oceans she will cross,
true mates, there be only one,
just like the Albatross.