The Aeroplane
A silver grey aeroplane flies through the sky,
Twisting and twirling and flying so high
While I stand below in the town and cry my!
How in that plane I wish I could fly.
Twisting and twirling and flying so high,
Looping the loop through the clouds in the sky,
Twisting and twirling and flying you see,
How in that plane I wish I could be.
And as that plane's flying so high in the sky,
I think of the birds - how swiftly they fly,
The secret of flying has been theirs - but why?
How in that plane I wish I could fly.
I was no more than nine years old when I wrote this. At least it rhymes and scans! I was evidently desirous of linking my interest in birds with that of the flying plane - I wonder if this was my own idea or if there was parental influence? Curiously, I was to do plenty of flying in later years, and to be moved by the experience to try my hand again at verse on the subject.
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