Impressions of a Pilot

Flight is freedom in its purest form,

To dance with the clouds which follow a storm;

To roll and glide, to wheel and spin,
To feel the joy that swells within;

To leave the earth with its troubles and fly,
And know the warmth of a clear spring sky;

Then back to earth at the end of a day,
Released from the tensions which melted away.

Should my end come while I am in flight,
Whether brightest day or darkest night;

Spare me your pity and shrug off the pain,
Secure in the knowledge that I’d do it again;

For each of us is created to die,
And within me I know,
I was born to fly.

— Gary Claud Stokor

 

Sky in my Pie

Waiter!

there’s a sky in my pie,
Remove at once if you please,
You can keep your incredible sunsets
I ordered mincemeat and cheese.
I can’t stand nightingales singing
Or clouds all burnished with gold,
The whispering breeze is disturbing the peas
And making my chips go all cold.
I don’t care if the chef is an artist
Whose canvases hang in the Tate,
I want two veg and puff pastry
Not the universe heaped on my plate.
Ok ill try just a spoonful
I suppose I’ve got nothing to lose.
Mmm the colours quite tickle the palate
With a blend of delicate hues.
The sun has a custardy flavour
And the clouds are as light as air,
The wind with a chewier texture,
With a hint of cinnamon there?
This sky is simply delicious
Why have I not tried it before?
I can chew my way through to eternity
And still have room left for more.
Having acquired a taste for the cosmos
I shall polish this sunset off soon,
I can’t wait to tuck into the night sky,
Waiter please bring me the moon.

By kaili gardner