Well as it will probably be about mid August time when you read this, many of you will soon be “flying away” for holidays, or perhaps have even been? If so, you may already be planning your next trip away, possibly flying again.
Though of course these days we fly for many other reasons than the summer vacations that involved flying about the world, so it has become a quite normal experience. But it wasn’t always that way, although we have now taken it for granted, and planes flying overhead go almost unoticed, except maybe for the ever popular air shows.
However whenever talking of flying and aeroplanes I always remember my fantastic dad who lived in probably one of the most innovative time periods, especially for flight. Born in the early 1900’s he used to recount seeing the first “Stringbag” planes flying over London where we lived, to the gradual progressions in flying, from the needs of WW1 to increasing scientific advancements of flight to the present day. He also served in WW2, so planes could spell imminent danger, which naturally honed his interest in planes even more!
Although not alive today since 2000 when he died, he saw a remarkable transformation in flying from those first early planes to jets and space travel. A progression in a lifetime indeed!
Time then for a “poetic themed flying poem”, so from my 4th bookcomes “Return Flight”….
Return Flight
There are some loves that will not die
Although they shouldn’t really last,
But linger on still flickering
From times left in the past.
Illicit times or stolen moments
Perhaps your first real kiss,
But every now and then in life
Those memories will be missed.
For as every dog will have its day
We must all find time to fly,
Then reach out to touch the stars
At least once before we die.
With skipping heart and infants smile
And stomach churning fit to burst,
You soar and glide effortlessly
Around sensations not rehearsed.
Though every flight will end sometime
Bringing its cargo back to land,
And so you must return to life
Maybe your soul won’t understand.
For we can never eternally visit
Ecstatic playing fields of gods
And even if we feel we do
It’s only when the devil nods!
Thus glowing embers of loves fires
May burn against the rule,
And play on heartstrings silent now
But better than never played at all.
–
Today getting on that great long metal cylander that will hopefully transport you safely to your chosen destination anywhere in the world, is no big deal really. Or perhaps it is?….
Many people apparently still suffer from tremendous and traumatic fears of flying, even today, with many doing anything to avoid flying, “dosing themselves up” for it, or in some cases flatly refusing to even consider, let alone get on a plane! Of course there have been some tragic disasters involving planes, where normally there are not too many survivors as lagely goes with that mode of transport, but again it would seem to be the case that it is one of the safest forms of transport.
I for one love it, and despite quite a few flights all over the world, still get quite a buzz from flying. That is only surpassed for me by helicopter flights over the Grand Canyon and Victoria Falls amongst many others that I was thrilled to have done.
One side of flying though that I don’t like is described in this poem, again from my fourth book…
Escape Hatch
The passenger was extremely large
Nothing else that I could say,
While to my horror and alarm
Seemed to be heading right my way.
I sat there transfixed with terror
At the fate I was about to meet,
When twenty plus stone of flesh
Crashed down in the next seat.
I must have looked quite mortified
As “excuse me” the gargantuan said,
Whilst I could only contemplate
Being squashed until I was dead.
For surely I could never survive
Like this for a nine hour flight,
As increasingly onto my space
Crept his massive spreading might.
And thinking it could not get worse
He had to raise his arms as well,
Releasing to my shocked dismay
A rancid, body odour smell.
So increasingly crushed and gassed
My face surely registering my pain.
But a miracle was about to occur
Right here on this very plane.
For a sweet voiced stewardess
Took pity on my grief and woe,
And completed my narrow escape
Saying to the plane’s rear he could go,
Where there were several empty seats
That this fat man could spread over.
Thus rendering me with great relief
At being a lucky wild rover.
–
So that is one downside of flying that does happen, but mostly it’s not too bad an experience, even on long haul flights to Australia for example. Anyway being a “wanderlust” the gains of where I can swiftly arrive at easily outweigh the downsides, how about you?
As some may consider that a romantic type of notion, I will include some lines of a new “romantic” poem only recently written, so as yet unpublished. Now that is a coup….
Flight Path
You are right on my flight path
And I now regularly fly by,
Mostly in hope I can see you
And to give my love a try.
So you may be quite oblivious
As my flying ever narrows,
But possibly you would notice
If I flew with the Red Arrows?
Though I am just a small pilot
Flying my own heart so humble,
So won’t attract your attention
Like a fighter jet’s loud rumble.
–
Poem very aptly titled Flight Path” then, and “destined” to land itself, or more likely “piloted” by myself or publisher in my sixth book out later this year or early next. So there is an early insight and read for you, plus of course a “heads up” for my new book, but OH?, you are still reading my previous five? No matter you can soon catch up if you get a ho, ho “flying start”…
Last poem then, and strangely also from my 4th book entitled Life Scene in Verse, and this poem is not totally to do with aircraft, but something I am sure you have had to deal with!
Fly Past
Flying creatures can be aggravating
And get you extremely mad,
Buzzing around and landing on food
Like an airborne “Jack the Lad”.
Some can give you a sting as well
Filling many folks with dread,
That they will get a nasty prick
As they zoom around their head.
But flapping your arms all about
Won’t work and can make you grieve,
For you will get stung for sure
If you trap one up your sleeve.
But what is it about those little flies
That makes us lose our wit?
Perhaps it’s because they like poo
With a passion to roll in it,
And then eat some for a meal
For that’s exactly what they do,
Ensuring that when they land on us
It can make us want to spew.
Though one special annoying thing
Is that persistent little fly,
Who however many times you swat
Just determines not to die.
So you flail your hands manically
Trying to give it a fatal crack,
But when you think you’ve got him
The blighter comes flying back.
So the war on this tiny air force
Can go to extreme lengths,
Although it’s a very unequal fight
With very different strengths.
For you do your level best to kill
Your miniature battling foe,
Who when you think that you’ve won
Will do a fly past, and then go!
–
That poem was from my “humour” section that you hopefully found to be the case and as writing this latest article has seen time “fly by” I will end now, but with just a quick wish that if you do fly off somewhere soon, you have a great time. For those unable to get on a plane I wish you find the fortitude and courage to one day get yourself on a plane as it is an amazing experience, but of course you have been told that I guess! Farewell for now, and chocks away!
A Regular ending for monthly articles
All five of my books :–
Poetic Views of Life
More Poetic Views of Life
Reviews of Life in Verse &
Life Scene in Verse
Life Presented In Verse,
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