Some classical wings poetry for all you amazing forecasters out there
My wings, they be stacking up!
Way way low they go
And I'd be so stinking rich
Except I'm buying this gold
Oh...
My rewards, they be piling up!
Way way high they be
And I'd be so filthy rich
If only they'd be paid to me...
Worthy! Our community reveals the talents

Maybe someone will write a hymn of the wings?