The airplane soars up with her spirit so high
She defies nature’s law as she kisses the sky
Pilot and crew with their uniform crease
arrest all our fears, like aviation police
Wings they are lifted by thrust and by air
while hand on the throttle is steady with care
Altimeter needle while upwardly creeping
ignores the stern voice of the captain who’s speaking
“Steady we go at thirty thousand feet
the ride will be smooth but stay in your seat”
Out of the window the ants you see scurry
are morning commuters in hurry and worry
While a gleam in the sky might be catching their eye
Across the great blue we go quietly by
All of a sudden, the gear it comes down
The flaps they are dragging, almost to the ground
Steady and easy the big bird she settles
Her parts all intact with rivets and metals
The trip just like that is a rousing success
With this parting good-bye the crew we address
It’s not just a trip from point A to point B
But the moving of spirit…from captive to free
David Kettler
This was the first in my alphabetical soup of poems. A….for Airplane! I’ve always enjoyed flying both commercially and when I had a valid pilot’s license. After flying up to the folks a couple weeks ago, I realized that it was the first time in about two years that I had flown commercially. I’m sure that trip influenced this poem a bit. I remember leaving Bakersfield about 5:00 PM full of fuel and the temperature was around 105 degrees. I had trouble climbing to altitude in order to get out of the valley and cross the mountains to the east. It was a good first hand lesson about how hotter temperatures affect the ability of an airplane to climb.
She defies nature’s law as she kisses the sky
Pilot and crew with their uniform crease
arrest all our fears, like aviation police
Wings they are lifted by thrust and by air
while hand on the throttle is steady with care
Altimeter needle while upwardly creeping
ignores the stern voice of the captain who’s speaking
“Steady we go at thirty thousand feet
the ride will be smooth but stay in your seat”
Out of the window the ants you see scurry
are morning commuters in hurry and worry
While a gleam in the sky might be catching their eye
Across the great blue we go quietly by
All of a sudden, the gear it comes down
The flaps they are dragging, almost to the ground
Steady and easy the big bird she settles
Her parts all intact with rivets and metals
The trip just like that is a rousing success
With this parting good-bye the crew we address
It’s not just a trip from point A to point B
But the moving of spirit…from captive to free
David Kettler
This was the first in my alphabetical soup of poems. A….for Airplane! I’ve always enjoyed flying both commercially and when I had a valid pilot’s license. After flying up to the folks a couple weeks ago, I realized that it was the first time in about two years that I had flown commercially. I’m sure that trip influenced this poem a bit. I remember leaving Bakersfield about 5:00 PM full of fuel and the temperature was around 105 degrees. I had trouble climbing to altitude in order to get out of the valley and cross the mountains to the east. It was a good first hand lesson about how hotter temperatures affect the ability of an airplane to climb.
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