The FLYER

by David G Dickenson

UP ABOVE THE CLOUDS ON HIGH
SWEEPING THROUGH THE VELVET SKY
A MAN OF GRIT HIS FAME FORTOLD
HIS MIGHTY BATTLE WITH MISFORTUNE BOLD

ONE DAY FOR PRIDE HE UNDERTOOK
THE COURAGE DEEP WITHOUT MUCH LUCK
HE FLEW TO GIVE THOSE PRYING EYES
OF SOMERSAULTS AND DARING SKIES

BOLD AND BASH AND KEEN TO PLEASE
HE FLEW HIS AIRCRAFT WITH FERVANT EASE
SWEEPING UPWARD ON THE WING
ONLY TO CRASH WITH A TERRIBLE STING

HE DIDN'T FEEL IMMEDIATE PAIN
JUST SHAME FOR THE CRASH AND THE FLIGHT MADE IN VAIN
HALF CONSCIOUSLY HANGING TWIXT LIFE AND DOOM
HIS LEGS WERE NO MORE WHAT A WASTE OF WOMB

SURGEONS FOUGHT HARD TO KEEP HIM ALIVE
FOR THREE DAYS AND NIGHTS LIKE BEES ROUND A HIVE
TO KEEP HIM FROM DYING AND SLIPPING AWAY
TILL THE BATTLE WAS WON ON THAT GREY WEDNESDAY

GRITTING HIS TEETH AND FORGING AHEAD
ON TWO TIN LEGS HE MANAGED INSTEAD
DETERMINED WITH GUTS TO WALK WITHOUT AID
A FINE STANDING OFFICER ONCE MORE HE HAD MADE

THEN GAINING HIS WINGS ONCE AGAIN WITH DELIGHT
MORE PILOTS WERE NEEDED TO TAKE UP THE FIGHT
FOR BADER WAS ONE OF THE FIRST OF THE FEW
TO FIGHT IN THE BATTLE OF BRITAIN FOR YOU