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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