Flying High

Reads: 96  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 1

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Up in the clouds
My painting " Biplane"

Up here where the air is thin,

I see the clouds roll by and then,

A sea bird rises up to glance,

As our eyes meet by happenstance.

Down below a world is bustling,

With going to and fro, and hustling. 

So busy they've no time to see,

The beauty here for you and me.

In the sky as formations pass,

Made of misty water gas,

I see illusions forming near,

Like trains, that you can almost hear.

The earth below, like a patchwork quilt,

Of greens, and golds, and brownish silt.

Blue rivers cut through with each curve 

As I look down and gently swerve.

No obstacles are in my way,

Along this stretch of sky highway.

Like a bird looking round,

I see the place where I sit down,

And as that rush of freedom fails, 

I leave a mark of thin contrails.

The ground then rushing up to meet,

As wheels they bounce,  below my feet.

There, it's done, I've landed then,

And can't wait, to go up again. 



Submitted: October 21, 2021

© Copyright 2022 dewey green. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


olive tree


fly me Dewey, I don't care if the plane's cardboard

Thu, October 21st, 2021 11:22am


Bloody hell, wish I could, the only one I can fly nowadays is paper...this ones cool!

Thu, October 21st, 2021 5:46am

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