Not so much looking down as across..

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Close to heaven


 

 

Thoughts on an airplane flight

 

The farmer in heaven

Has ploughed the white fields

Of fluffy clouds

The bobbly clouds

Straight in serried furrows

Porous cover the sea and land

Lying down below, below

And so this miracle of man

And science, unbelievably

Races just below heaven

And far above earth

 

The early flight now takes it's toll

And fellow travellers doze and curl

In Foetal balls

Both pretty girls with hair in buns

And eyes made heavy with lashes

And golden bodies

From the Canarian sun

And strong limbed youths

With new tattoos

Lie half asleep

Like helpless babes.

 

The safest way to travel, we learn,

Hung half way between earth and sky

Improbably,

Overworked and underpaid for what they do

At times annoying but mostly patient crew

Go up and down the tiny aisle

And cramped as crabs

Caught in summer buckets

They toil to and fro

Administer to high and low

 

The youthful parents

Struggle with the crying babies

The silver haired

Perhaps forget that once they too

Were those couples

Who scrimped and saved

To carve a special fortnight

In the sun, away from rain

Escape awhile from sapping news

That keeps repeating on the loop

The news that never ends

Rarely lifts our exhausted senses

 

And on and on

The white fields run

Above the earth

Below the sun

Like heavy snow

Untouched by man

No footprints on the arctic scape

That runs for miles and miles

From here to infinity

From now to eternity

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