Monday, 7 January 2008
Flight of Fancy
Muscular aeroplane exuding fizzy hot jetstreams
Throbbing in runway readiness as the stewards slam lockers
Trim hover-hat high priestesses to your power,
Dip to check seat belts, displaying regulation-shaved legs.
Your internal lights frown in concentration, all juice to the boosters
Impatient for control tower leave to commence taxiing.
I look out over your sensible wing, run my mind over your rivets
Place my faith in your scuffed, unwashed, but serviceable, body,
As the emergency dance routine washes in one sense and out the other
Admire your more glamorous well-endowed neighbour, next bay
Big-arsed and American, though no trusty Pan-Am
Guzzling a two-tanker breakfast, a little flashy for me.
A whoosh and we move, slowly at first, feeling the latent power
Then you lurch forward, but holding back until safe
Before weaving the network of slipways to the open runway
Where your throttle lets rip, frame juddering to within an inch of its G-force.
We take off, pushed back into felt upholstery by the pressure of thrust upness
That miraculous climb into the clouds that never ceases to amaze,
Until you level off to commence the flight path, set controls to cruise.
Ignoring 'Atonement', I gaze through the porthole and cirrus, sorting land mass from abyss.
Eventually you show me the twinkling lights of my destination
The pretty formation of a landing strip shoehorned into alien conurbation
Bring me down gently, stage by stage, landing gear erect,
To the perfect poignant landing, a butterfly's kiss.
I want to relay gratitude to the Captain, but that's not encouraged.
However he says he looks forward to seeing me again
And thanks me for choosing him.
© LS King 2008